


Lazarus Rising

by Anonymonimus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angel Castiel, Angels, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Blood, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Bottom Dean, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Dark, Dark Character, Dean in Hell, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Guilt, Guilty Dean, Guilty Dean Winchester, Guilty Pleasures, Hell Fic, Hell Trauma, Homosexuality, Hurt, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Alastair/Dean Winchester, Implied dubcon, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Smut, Past Torture, Past Violence, Protective Castiel, Psychological Torture, Regret, Requited Love, Romantic Friendship, Scars, Slow Build, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Romance, Smut, Survival, Survival Horror, Survivor Guilt, Top Castiel, Top!Castiel, Torture, Torturer Dean, Traumatized Dean, Trials of Hell, Violence, bottom!Dean, mentioned rape, takes place before season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymonimus/pseuds/Anonymonimus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Dean thinks he'll be stuck in Hell forever, the Angels come to save him. However, the rescue mission doesn't go as smoothly as it should and now Dean is stuck finding an alternative way out of Hell with a wounded angel named Castiel while daemons chase after them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perdition

**Author's Note:**

> **Potential series I got going on here**
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> **If you like and want more chapters don't forget to leave a comment (4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter)**
> 
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> **In any case, ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

It's hot and unbearable but Dean has slowly grown accustomed to the infernal temperatures of Hell. He's been rotting in the pit for what feels like 40 years now and Alastair says he'll eventually embrace the insane heat. Alastair claims he doesn't notice it anymore though Dean has seen him fan himself briefly on more than one occasion. In any case, the heat wasn't as terrible as it once was – perhaps there is some amount of truth to what had been told. Nevertheless, Dean knows he will never get used to the horrifying sights surrounding him.

Hell seems endless with a constantly changing landscape. The only thing that remains somewhat consistent is the web of chains up in the realm's sky and the flashes of lightning followed by thunder and terrified shrieks of tortured souls. Dean spends most of what he refers to as 'nights' looking up at it and thinking. Sometimes he thinks he catches glimpses of light far away which he has come to identify as the way out of Hell. A part of him strongly believes that if he can just find a way to climb up to it he can be free but he never attempts.

Dean only tried to flee from Alastair once and it hadn't gone entirely well. His absence had been noticed rather quickly and the price he had paid for his disobedience was as worse as any torture he had suffered during his initial thirty years in the pit. Alastair had warned him that if he ever tried to flee again, he would be put back on the torture table for all eternity. Dean is too afraid to test the threat.

Notwithstanding of the fact that Alastair had tortured him mercilessly for three decades, he and Dean got along fairly well. Alastair definitely finds pleasure in his job and honestly hates leaving Hell when he is summoned or tasked to do so. He is a relatively good and surprisingly patient teacher, rarely snapping at Dean for his reluctance in committing certain acts. He seems to understand that Dean is very much human and that that part of him will not burn away any time soon. As he puts it: "I've got all of eternity to see you turn".

The 'day' has ended and Dean retreats to the room Alastair had once brought him to upon his release from the rack ten years prior. Even though the terrain shifts constantly, the room he has come to see as home remains in the same location and Dean can always find his way to it. He is rarely bothered by daemons anymore now that Alastair has officially taken him under his wing and – for a demented reason – he's rather thankful. Some do still try to get their hands on him for revenge's sake but Alastair has taken the liberty of providing him with the tools necessary to defend himself. Of course, he had to earn them and the feats he had to accomplish had been far from easy. In any case, Dean is as safe as he is ever going to be in Hell.

He barely falls onto the stone bed when he feels the familiar presence of his mentor invade the room. Dean nonetheless doesn't spare him a glance and gets comfortable before shifting on his side. "What's up?" He asks.

"I'll be leaving for a short while." Alastair informs, "I want you to make sure the others under my command fulfill their tasks. If they do not, you know what to do."

"Where are you going?" Dean asks curiously.

"Business at the Gate." Alastair says and he seems partially annoyed, "Some scuffle the buffoons can't manage on their own."

The mention of the Gate has Dean's heart throbbing and beating painfully in his chest. A sort of excitement and hope takes over him and has him sitting in seconds as his mind begins to race. He wonders if the Gate really is the light he occasionally sees in the gloomy sky. He wonders if he could escape if he follows Alastair. Alastair senses the thoughts crossing his protégé's mind and smirks as he takes steps closer to Dean and leans in. When he stops, his lips are inches away from Dean's ear and the tickling of his breath unnerves him to no end. He whispers: "Remember the warning I gave you Dean-o. If you try to follow me, you'll be back where you started in seconds for all of eternity this time, understood?"

Dean gulps audibly and nods briefly. Alastair pulls away and stands upright.

"Wonderful." He says, "This also doesn't give you an excuse to slack with your job."

"Yeah, I know." Dean mumbles. "Have fun."

And just as such, Alastair is gone. Dean pauses for a minute and makes sure he is completely alone before curling in on himself and sobbing. He isn't sure how he manages to produce the tears in an environment in which he feels severely dehydrated all the time though he supposes Spirits in Hell don't necessarily abide by the laws of human biology and logic. And so he cries and cries and remembers his life when he was alive which only makes him feel worse. Dean misses Sam. He misses, Bobby, Ellen and Jo too. He didn't even have the chance to say goodbye. He hopes they're okay and looking out for Sam – God knows the kid is lost without him. But Dean trusts in Sam and in his strength and believes he can defeat and overcome whatever is hurled his way.

And so Dean spends the 'night' as such. When 'morning' comes, he returns to the torturing tables and supervises the other daemons as commanded by Alastair. They all seem strangely focused but Dean brushes it off as something positive. He goes to his station and commences torturing as well. The first soul he is served on that day is a young woman that was once a drug dealer. She is utterly frightened and confused – an obvious newcomer to Hell.

"Please!" She begs Dean and struggles against her restraints, "Help me!"

Her tone changes quickly as she sees Dean scan his tools, debating which to use first. She begins to beg for mercy and forgiveness and Dean finds himself unfazed. He has grown immune to the pitiful apologies and cries of his victims over the decade and has actually begun to find a certain degree of enjoyment in what he does. He supposes it's normal considering Hell _is_ burning away his humanity. One day he will become a daemon and forget himself in the process.

Dean settles on the scalpel. He figures he'll start small and gradually get bigger. He did always prefer his smaller tools. They permitted for more precise and detailed incisions.

The following part is like a dance to him. Dean swings the scalpel brilliantly, cutting through the flesh as though it were softer than butter. Drops of blood splash in every direction, dotting all of the surrounding surfaces. The girl shrieks louder than a banshee and remains rigid and tense as Dean cuts through her. Though she still struggles for freedom, Dean has learned long ago how to make the slices and slashes he desires on an agitated target. Alastair had been particularly proud in regards to how fast he had caught on.

When Dean stops, his hands are soaked in the girl's blood and she's a whimpering mess. She tries to stay as still as possible to minimize the pain surging through her body but she has yet to realize logic ever rarely matters in Hell. The dark realm has a set of laws of its own and they are very different from those of Earth.

He looks back at his tools, now struggling between a crooked dagger and pliers. He supposes it has been a while since he's denailed one of the souls presented to him. Dean reaches for the pliers and with a snap of his fingers, the girl's fingers and secured. Alastair had taught him the trick shortly after being released from the torture tables. One of Hell's many laws was that the imagination of daemons shaped the realm. Typically, the strongest daemons were the most creative – and consequently the most disturbed. "You're only limited by your imagination." Alastair had told him.

"Please stop!" the girl begged through ragged sobs as Dean squeezed the tip of her fingernail between the pincers, "I'm sorry! Please! I—"

Dean dryly yanks the nail from her finger and pulls a gut-wrenching screech from the new soul. She wails pitifully and grossly upon recovering from the pain and Dean readies another finger. He tells himself to use said torture method more often seeing as the results are quite… _lovely_.

He pulls out another nail so as to distract his conscience but it fails. As the girl breathes heavily and whimpers from the pain, Dean pauses and reflects on his recent thought. Never once in his life had he killed or hurt anything that didn't deserve it or hadn't attacked him first. In any case, to delight in the pain and agony of another human being was still disgusting and Dean begins to second guess his actions. He looks at his trembling hands and wonders just how much as Hell corrupted his soul.

Just then the piercing shrieks of daemons fills the air. Dean is panicked and confused – he doesn't understand what is happening when he sees a blue light zoom pass him. It goes directly for the daemon a couple of meters away and smites him. Dean backs away in pure terror, wondering if the creature will come for him next but, instead, it moves on to another daemon. Soon more of them appear and kill everyone except for Dean – seemingly ignoring him. Dean is still terrified and doesn't know what to do. Alastair has never mentioned whatever those things are and so Dean has no idea how to deal with them.

Suddenly, one of the moves to him and it's so close that Dean can tell it's a man and it has wings. He flaps them gently and the cool breeze it creates washes over him and Dean unexpectedly feels pure. He allows the sensation to wash over him for an instant, basking in it until he is compelled to open his eyes and sees the winged man reach out for him. He seems to be inviting more than anything and Dean feels urged to follow.

" _Come_ …" He says.

His voice is soft and gentle. He oozes with love and kindness and Dean doesn't understand how something so beautiful – so angelic – can be found in such a rotten place. Nonetheless, Dean hesitates. He is unsure whether or not he should obey and looks around for advice. However, those who have been with him for ten years have been smitten and the only one who can tell Dean what to do is Dean himself. He looks back at the pure being in front of him and begins to see his face. The creature resembles a human man – short hair, strong jawline and plush lips – the only dissimilarity being the large white wings.

"Come…" he repeats and his tone sounds a bit more urgent than before.

Dean spares one last glance around him before slowly stretching out his arm to meet the winged man's welcoming hand. Their fingers brush and the sensation of peace and quaintness is like electricity – as odd as the comparison is. Dean is at a loss of words and doesn't know what to say or ask the angelic being but it seems to assess the general idea of his long train of thought.

"Do not worry, Dean Winchester." He says softly and takes all of Dean's hand in his, "You are leaving this wretched place."

And Dean couldn't help the tears that trail down his face. If he was being tormented by a daemon's illusion, he would surely never recover from it. The being pulls him closer and looks at chained sky in which the light Dean occasionally saw can be seen clearer than day. They exchange one last look before Dean is pulled firmly against the man's broad and strong figure. The action surprises him but not as much as the sudden and powerful flap of wings that propels them towards the light.

Everything seems like a dream, Dean can hardly believe this is happening. He feels like he will wake up any second and be disappointed by what surrounds him. Nonetheless, he hopes he doesn't wake up. He doesn't want to be in Hell all over again and despair that no one would ever come save him.

"You are safe, Dean Winchester." The man tells him and holds him closer – almost as though hugging him. "You are sav—"

Out of the blue, a black mass collides with Dean and his saviour, halting their progress and rendering the pure creature confused. The winged man looks around for the assailant when Dean suddenly spots Alastair standing angrily on one of the many chains in the sky. He seems livid and his vicious eyes burn through Dean's soul, inspiring the worst terror he has ever felt.

"Dean, Dean, Dean…" he shakes his head disappointedly. "What did I tell you would happen if you tried to escape?"

Out of pure fear and instinct, Dean clutches to the man's chest and looks at him in desperation. He hopes his saviour won't abandon him. God knows the punishment Alastair has installed will be worse than everything he has ever experienced and will last him the rest of eternity. However, the winged man doesn't shrink at Alastair's hinted threat and flaps his wings menacingly and growls.

"You _will_ _not_ harm him." He hisses.

And just like that, with another powerful beat, Dean and the winged man are propelled closer to the light. They are moving impossibly fast and yet Alastair has found a way to keep up. Dean realizes they're in the midst of a race and he hopes his saviour will win.

What happens next is a blur.

It seems like the exit to Hell is only inches away and the winged man reaches for it but never quite touches it. A heavy mass collides with them again and Dean is unsure if it's Alastair or a different daemon. In any case, one second they're flying and the next they're falling. And then everything goes black.


	2. Saviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fun fact that you probably didn't know unless you're as obsessed with History as I am:**
> 
> _**Purgatory was a concept invented by Pope Leon X as a way to frighten people into donating more money to the Church for reasons. People were terrified of spending time in Purgatory so they willingly gave up what little money they had to be forgiven of their sins and avoid the waiting room. That action actually pissed off the more educated people like Luther and it became one of the reasons why des religions protestantes (excuse my French) emerged.** _
> 
> **Now, Enjoy! :D**
> 
> * * *

When Dean comes to, he is surrounded by whiteness. It's practically blinding and he can't help but wince at its intensity. Dean could have sworn he and the winged man had fallen just before reaching the exit but his new surrounding seem to dictate otherwise. He wonders where he is now and in what realm he has wandered to. Everything seems empty and vacant and he wonders if this is maybe purgatory – though History would suggest it to be highly unlikely.

It's only when he reaches forward for no particular reason and that his hand brushes soft feathers that he realizes he is not in a different realm. Dean shifts his gaze downwards where he has finally become aware of a certain sensation and sees a pair of arms wrapped around his waist protectively. When he pivots to see the clearly comatose winged man, he expects a blue hue to blind him but it is not there. He can see his features as clear as day. Though he is unconscious, he seems to be in pain and upon further inspection Dean realizes it's because his left wing is broken. Regardless of that fact, his massive wings still cocoon them protectively and Dean almost wants to stay within its confines forever – he doesn't want to face the nightmare on the other side. In any case, his saviour is rather handsome though Dean can't help but notice how he resembles a tax collector. He has short, dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin and a scruff covering his square jaw. Clothes-wise, he wears a black suit with a white dress shirt and a blue tie all of which is covered by a beige trench coat.

"Hey…" Dean finally says and nudges him gently. "Wake up."

The winged man's eyes flutter open revealing bright blue irises. He is already very handsome and, to Dean, his gorgeous eyes seem like an overkill – he is surely a lady-killer. "Dean Winchester." He says almost in relief as a smile graces his lips, "Are you hurt?"

"N-no…" Dean stutters and his eyes shift to the great white wings as they are retracted and folded against the winged man's back. He releases his waist to sit upright and Dean mimics his movement dumbly. "How do you know my name?"

"My name is Castiel." He answers, "I am an Angel of the Lord and I have been watching you for a long time."

"An Angel?" Dean repeats incredulously.

"Yes." Castiel confirms.

"Angels aren't real." Dean says, shaking his head as though the action would denounce Castiel as an illusion.

"If you believe in daemons, is it such a stretch to believe in Angels, Dean Winchester?" Castiel asks.

"I believe in what I see." Dean states with a heavy frown.

"You see me, do you not?" Castiel says, cocking his head to the left.

"I'm in _Hell_." Dean reminds, "You could be a daemon posing as an Angel for all I know. If you are, you did a shit job with the disguise."

Castiel looks at himself with a heavy frown, "I apologize if my appearance offends you." He says, "I have taken my only willing vessel to come save you because my true form is far less inconspicuous."

"…What." Dean breathes and he feels himself getting frustrated.

"In any case," Castiel dismisses absently, "We must hurry. Daemons are surely patrolling the area for you and we must get out of this wretched place as soon as possible—"

"Hold on—" Dean objects and jumps to his feet, "Why the hell should I go anywhere with you?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord. I have come to save you." Castiel answers and is visibly perplexed with his say so isn't enough for Dean.

"And I'm Oprah." Dean says sarcastically.

"No you are not." Castiel says after a moment of confused silence, "You are Dean—"

"Sarcasm!" Dean snaps and takes a step back, "I'm not going to follow you until you prove you're… _you_."

"This is not the time—"

"Proof!" Dean insists, interrupting Castiel.

"Daemons are looking for us." Castiel says with a low growl, "One of them is Alastair and I remember him promising to deliver a threat. Do you really wish to risk facing his wrath?"

Dean freezes at the thought. Alastair's torture was the worst. Choosing between he and Castiel now seems like a relatively easy choice and yet Dean can't help himself. "I don't care." He lies. "I want proof."

Castiel frowns and takes a step closer to Dean. Dean flinches, wanting to keep the other at a safe distance but before he can, Castiel presses two fingers to his forehead. A sense of peace and tranquility wash over Dean and his eyes flutter shut as he basks in the sensation. There's a strange ringing in his ears and as it gets louder, Dean realizes _they are the voices of Angels_. Their tones are melodious and he can't quite grasp what they're saying – or singing, Dean isn't exactly sure – but he hears his name. Eventually he can make out a sentence.

" _Save Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man._ "

Castiel pulls his fingers away and Dean opens his eyes. "Do you believe me now?" Castiel asks.

"I…I guess…" Dean mutters.

"Good. Now follow me." Castiel says and begins to walk in what seems to be a random direction. "My wing is broken and I cannot heal at my proper rhythm in this foul place. We will have to walk."

"You can _walk_ out of Hell?" Dean asks, surprised.

"Of course." Castiel responds and points at the small light high in the chained sky, "You cannot see it very well but there is a mountain that leads to the Gate."

Lightning flashes just as Castiel finishes and Dean can finally see the vague outline of what the Angel is referring to. "How are we going to get there?" Dean asks, "The landscape constantly changes, we'll never make it."

"Untrue." Castiel states, "The landscape may shift but the path remains the same. We must follow it."

"What happens if we go through?" Dean asks. He jogs a bit to stay closer to Castiel. "Do I go to Heaven or something?"

" _When_ we leave, you go back to Earth." Castiel explains, "You still have much to do there. It is not yet time for you to ascend to Heaven."

Dean is a bit disappointed – if he's honest with himself. He's happy to know he'll be reunited with Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Jo but death has a certain peace to it. He remembers when he was alive he was always exhausted and wanting time to relax but never got it. He supposes it was only natural considering he was living the life of a Hunter but he had never chosen said path. In any case, being on Earth and exhausted is a thousand times better than rotting in the pit and forgetting himself.

"How long is it going to take us?" Dean asks.

"I do not know." Castiel admits, "I have never done it before. In fact, this is my first time in Hell."

"Great." Dean huffs sarcastically, "We're definitely going to get lost."

"Highly unlikely." Castiel states, "The army of Angels sent to collect you have memorized the path in case of such an event. We will eventually find our way out."

"Right…" Dean mutters and remembers the other Angelic entities he spotted smiting daemons. There were quite a lot, some bigger than Castiel and now they were nowhere to be found. "What happened to the others?"

"They left." Castiel answers, "Did you not hear them speak?"

"I only heard them say _Save Dean Winchester._ " Dean says.

"Ah, yes." Castiel says, "They were speaking to me. I am the only one left and they are counting on me to raise you from perdition."

"Yeah…" Dean mumbles and his voice momentarily fades. "Tell me something." He says after a short silence, "Why does God give two shits about me? I mean, I'm not exactly the kindest or most important being in the world."

"You are wrong." Castiel says, "You are more important than you could ever imagine. You are the Righteous Man and humanity will need you in the coming days preceding your resurrection."

"Why?" Dean asks and he speeds up to be able to look at Castiel's face as he walks, "What's so important that only _I_ can do?"

"You are the Sword of Michael." Castiel responds and smiles, "You will stop the Apocalypse."

Dean is dumbstruck by the revelation. "Me?" he repeats. "Why me?"

"As I said, you are the Sword of Michael." Castiel says coolly, "Not everyone can be Michael's vessel. His potential vessels must be from a specific bloodline which you fit. He favours you above all the others."

"Michael?" Dean asks, "Michael as in the Archangel Michael?"

"Who else would I refer to?" Castiel asks in return.

"This is insane." Dean breathes and he stops walking. He is overwhelmed by the information that is being given to him. It seems far too incredible to be true. One second he is suffering in Hell, the next an army of Angels comes to his rescue and one of them informs him that he is destined to save the world as the Archangel Michael's vessel. No one was ever that important, it was just something that happened in the movies – or, at least, not to him. He is Dean Winchester and he is a normal guy as far as Hunters go.

"Are you alright, Dean Winchester?" Castiel asks with concern and inches closer, "You seem troubled."

"I am!" Dean snaps and he can't help his rude tone. "How do you think I feel right now?"

"I cannot say." Castiel admits, "I am not particularly good at discerning emotions."

"This is insane." Dean huffs and he suddenly realizes he's hyperventilating.

"Dean Winchester…?" Castiel asks slowly.

"O-oh god…" He stutters and leans against a red rock nearby for support, "I-I think I'm having a panic attack…How is that even possible!? I'm supposed to be dead, I'm not supposed to suffer from anxiety and all that crap!"

"That is only true for Heaven." Castiel explains. "Hell will not provide you with such peace."

"You're _not_ helping!" Dean growls and slowly crumbles to his knees. "Oh my god…"

Dean continues to panic, feeling his heart throb painfully in his chest and every fiber of his body shake as Castiel stares at him awkwardly. The Angel is evidently unaware of what he's supposed to do in such a situation.

"Do something!" Dean snaps.

"I do not know—"

"Of course you don't!" Dean interrupts angrily. "Oh my god, oh my god…!" he huffs and tries to control his breathing but it isn't working. "Why the fuck would you dump all that shit on me!? Did you think I'd react well!? I thought you've been watching me for a long time! You should have known better!"

"I apologize—"

"I don't want your damn apology! It's too late now!" Dean growls and throws his head back, staring at the chained sky, "I just want to calm down!"

There's a brief pause in their conversation during which Dean mutters to himself and whispers encouragements to calm down though they barely do anything. He feels Castiel's eyes upon him, assessing him and he thinks that's all he'll do until he takes a couple of steps forward and presses two fingers to his head again. A sense of peace and tranquility wash over him like the first time Castiel had done the action and Dean's panic attack immediately subsides. When Castiel pulls away, he releases a relieved sigh but remains seated on the dusty ground for a minute.

"Are you feeling better?" Castiel asks.

"Yeah…" Dean croaks.

"I am truly sorry, Dean Winchester—"

"Don't." Dean interrupts.

"I beg your pardon?" Castiel asks, confusion painting his face.

"Dean is fine and I don't want to hear your apology." Dean breaths. "Getting me the hell out of here will be as good and even better than that." He extends his hand to Castiel and waits a moment before adding: "Help me up."

Castiel does as he is commanded and Dean brushes his pants clean once he is on his feet. He looks his hands over and finds them perfectly stable which is a relief. He then turns his gaze to Castiel who seems lost in thoughts as he looks Dean over. Seeing as he is socially inept and doesn't quite understand the complexity behind humans, Dean wonders if his bewilderment is in regards to the panic attack he recently suffered from or his general reactions to what Castiel had to say.

"We should go." Castiel finally says and leads the way again, "There are daemons not far behind."

Dean nods and follows a step behind. During the long hours of the 'day' they spent walking, Dean observes Castiel's back and reflects on what he has been told. He doesn't quite understand what it means to be the vessel of an Archangel – or an Angel for that matter – but he assumes it's relatively similar to how a daemon takes over a human hosts and makes use of their body. He also doesn't understand why Michael favours him above all the other vessels he has the option to choose from but supposes he could be an ideal choice. Though he does fancy himself as normal, Dean reckons he is physically stronger and handy with weapons than most average people. He also has an extensive knowledge on all things supernatural which could easily be useful. However, Dean doesn't know who the other potential vessels are – one of them could be a war veteran or something with even more combat training.

Eventually the 'night' falls. Dean allows Castiel to lead the way for a couple more hours before he finally decides to say something. "Let's stop for now." Dean suggests.

"That would be a terrible idea." Castiel says. "We are being followed by daemons and the second we stop we will be attacked."

"I don't know if it's because you're an Angel or something," Dean says and takes a seat on the ground, leaning against a rock wall. "But you clearly have more energy than me. I'm human and I need to rest. Being fueled with adrenaline does help to some extent but its worn off now. I need to rest."

Castiel still hesitates but ultimately gives in. "Alright." He says slowly and eyes their surroundings wearily. They had wandered into a valley and giant rock walls bordered the side of the path they followed. "How long do you need?"

"At least four hours." Dean says and gets comfortable against the wall – which is virtually impossible.

Castiel stares at him quietly before sitting next to him and offering his non broken wing as a pillow. Dean looks unsure whether to accept the offer or not. "You will not hurt me." Castiel assures, "And this option is far more comfortable than the one you were about to settle for."

Dean nods and leans into the fluffy white feathers. Castiel's wing makes for a soft pillow and Dean finds himself snuggling into it eagerly. He hasn't been this comfortable in decades. However, he still jolts when he feels some of the feathers curl around his body.

"Do not worry." Castiel says softly, "I will keep you safe, Dean."

"I'm not a chick." Dean grumbles and he feels sleep weighing on him. "I can take care of myself." He yawns.

"Women are capable of defending themselves as well as men." Castiel says, "However, I was not trying to imply you were weak with my previous statement. Though you _are_ at a disadvantage."

"How so?" Dean asks and his eyelids are feeling particularly heavy.

"Your exorcisms and demon traps are of no use here." Castiel explains, "The tricks you have acquired as a Hunter are virtually useless now that you are playing by the rules of Hell."

When he finishes his sentence, Castiel notices Dean has already fallen asleep. He smiles at the peaceful expression on Dean's face and pulls him closer so as to partially lay on him as he slept. Castiel hopes the daemons surrounding them will not yet make a move and allow Dean the time necessary to rest – however daemons aren't exactly known for being kind and thoughtful. In any case, no matter what happens, Castiel vows to protect the Righteous Man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter. I promise the next one will be more interesting.**


	3. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Someone mentioned to me that they thought Castiel's wings were black (which is true, I suppose) and was curious on why I decided to describe them as white and fluffy. This was really just a personal choice with the following reason: In the show, Castiel says that he has wings but human senses are too dull to perceive them so when he does 'show' his 'wings' he's actually just showing their shadow (which is why they're black). Seeing as Dean is in Hell _and_ is a Spirit, I figure that his senses are heightened and he can see Castiel's true form and his real wings. **
> 
> **Just a personal head canon because beautiful white fluffy wings are what I love about angels lol**
> 
> **In any case, I want to thank you all for the abundance of reviews I got last chapter. I'm having a shit day and reading them made me very happy. It's also why you're getting a new chapter now rather than later :D**
> 
> **If you have questions, like the previous asker, don't hesitate to do so. I'll be happy to answer any and all of them.**
> 
> **ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

Dean wakes up when he feels like he's being squeezed into a tight hug. He has a bit of trouble breathing and is too confused and sleepy to say anything coherent for a moment. He looks up at Castiel and wonders when he has gotten so close to the Angel's face. Then Dean notices his agitated expression and begins to worry. Castiel is glaring at something and when Dean looks to see what, he finds five daemons standing menacingly a couple of meters away. Unlike the ones Dean has been around for roughly ten years, they do not maintain a somewhat human figure and reveal their true forms. They are black and red with sharp, crooked fangs and burnt flesh.

The landscape has changed from when Dean had fallen asleep. The valley had now become a plain with mountains of skulls and entrails evenly spaced for as far as the eye could see. They were nonetheless still seated on the ground and Castiel seems to hesitate to stand because he thinks Dean is still sleeping. Dean eventually nudges himself away, drawing Castiel's attention to him for a brief moment. He is immediately released and Castiel is on his feet, wielding a silver blade which he twirls in his hand with anticipation.

Dean isn't exactly sure what he should do. He is unarmed and his exorcisms are of no use in Hell. He hates feeling defenseless and being forced out of a confrontation but it would be irrational to stubbornly stay and so he takes a step back. He will watch Castiel's back as he fights off the five daemons seeing as it's the only thing he can do right now.

"An Angel so far in Hell…" one of them cackles and takes a step forward, flinching when Castiel grasps his blade tightly. "Abandoned by the flock."

"I'm going to enjoy tearing you to shreds." Another hisses.

Castiel remains stoic and doesn't indulge in their badgering. Instead he observes them attentively, anticipating which would make the first move. Turns out it's the one furthest back who has the guts to go up against him. He jumps ahead of the others and dashes forth, closing the space in between he and Castiel in seconds. However, his attack doesn't go as he planned for he is impaled on the silver blade and ultimately destroyed by its magic.

Another daemon tries to take advantage of Castiel's momentary distraction and goes in for a potentially lethal blow as he tries to jerk his weapon free. But Castiel isn't as defenseless as he seems without his blade. He swiftly interrupts the daemon's action by pressing the palm of his hand against his forehead and using his magic to destroy it in seconds. The three remaining daemons are intimidated by Castiel's efficiency and Dean realizes they had thought him to be an easy prey considering his wounded state.

The first daemon to speak hisses and dashes forth, clearly the bravest and yet most stupid of the three. Castiel yanks his blade free and counters the daemon's attack with a swing which the latter manages to barely dodge. The daemon reshapes his hand so as to make a spear and lunges forward, aiming for Castiel's bowels though the Angel pivots out of the way and promptly stabs his opponent in the head. The other two daemons understand that if they try to face Castiel, they will die and so attempt retreat. Castiel, however, does not allow it.

He chases down the daemons in seconds, seemingly hovering above the ground and moving exceptionally fast with the help of his unbroken wing. The two last daemons are smitten almost immediately, their cries echoing through the plains. And then Castiel is by Dean's side again. He is covered in black blood but seems unbothered by it.

"There are more nearby." Castiel informs. "They have heard the last one's cry. We have to move. Are you sufficiently rested?"

"Yeah…" Dean answers, "I slept really well, almost like it was more than four hours…"

"It was seven." Castiel informs and takes Dean's hand to lead him away and keep him close all at once. "I allowed you as much sleep as our enemies would provide."

"I told you four hours would be plenty." Dean frowns.

"Your soul is exhausted, Dean." Castiel says, "It needs more time than you think to rest."

"God…" Dean huffs angrily, "The rules for this thing is so confusing…"

"They hard to keep track of." Castiel concedes, "Though they generally function the same way as your human body would with a couple of exceptions. For example, you are not prone to hunger or hydration but you are to sleep and rest and physical injuries."

"Yeah, thanks Einstein." Dean rolls his eyes.

"My name is Castiel." Castiel correct.

Dean is momentarily muted by the Angel's incapability to grasp sarcasm. "I was…whatever."

They walk fast. Dean tries to pull his hand free a couple of times but Castiel holds on tightly. He thinks that if Dean walks without his assistance, he will slow their pace and they can't afford to do that in their current position. They swerve around the mountains of skull and entrails, avoiding the daemons Dean can't see but Castiel can sense. Whenever Dean tries to start a leisurely conversation to pass the time, he is immediately shut down by Castiel – most likely because there are daemons nearby that could over hear them.

Things only look up when the ground begins to shake so much so that the two stumble over and the landscape changes. They are suddenly in the middle of a forest with black, leafless trees. It provides more cover and has moved the daemons around, giving them sufficient distance away to not worry as much. However, they are consequently moved further away from the path they have to take to escape Hell and so have to waste time trying to find it. They hope they will not cross daemons once they've found it again.

It takes them a couple of hours before stumbling on the path again and resuming their way. Castiel makes no comment of their surroundings though still holds a tight grip on Dean's hand. Dean doesn't see any daemons around but he reckons he doesn't have the Angel's acute senses. However, he also figures that if there was anything dangerous around them, he would have said something and warned Dean the second he sensed it. And yet the persistent grip on his hand summons worry and doubt.

"So…" Dean tries to start a conversation again and pauses, waiting for Castiel to tell him to be quiet again. When he doesn't Dean assumes there really is nothing to worry about. "Are you going to hold my hand the entire way?"

"I would prefer it." Castiel replies, "You tend to walk a few paces behind me and it worries me because I can't see you."

"Then I'll walk next to you." Dean says and pulls his hand free and does as he said he would. "Better?"

"Yes."

Silence falls upon them and Dean feels strangely unnerved by it. He doesn't know why but the eerie forest of black trees and the fact that they're in Hell are definitely at the base of it. He looks around agitatedly and cranks his neck to look at the bordering trees in different angles. A part of him feels like they are being followed and watched. However Dean reasons, once again, that if it were truly the case, Castiel would have said something.

Dean shifts his gaze to the ground of a moment, stepping over a half buried skull he wouldn't have noticed otherwise and settles his eyes on Castiel's wings. They are folded neatly on his back though his left one is awkwardly place so as to limit the pain the Angel must surely be feeling. Though they are abnormally big and the feathers are particularly fluffy, Dean thinks they look exactly like a bird's. He hasn't had a normal childhood but he has mended a couple of wounded sparrows and feels like he can probably do something for Castiel.

He slows his pace and moves behind the Angel as they continue to walk. "You said—"

"I know what I said." Dean interrupts, rolling his eyes as he brushes his fingers through the soft feathers. He shudders at the relaxing sensation of purity which never fails to take over his body whenever he comes in contact with Castiel. "I'm going to try to help you."

"You do not need to concern yourself with me." Castiel reassures and tries to move Dean away but he remains in place unwaveringly. "I will be better when we escape."

"Yeah and until then, I'll make sure you don't make your wound worse." Dean says and Castiel begins to think he'll have an answer for everything. Dean glides his hand through the feathers and barely grazes the broken part but still earns a flinch of pain from Castiel. "How much does it hurt?"

"I am fine, Dean." Castiel lies.

"Liar." Dean outs. "Now hold on a minute." He says and forces Castiel to stop walking and kneel so he can get a better look at the wounded wing. Dean frowns upon seeing that the broken bones aren't joint together as they should be. "I need to rearrange your bone." Dean says and gently takes a hold of both extremities. "It's going to hurt…a lot."

Castiel simply nods and lets Dean do what he wishes. Dean takes a deep breath and mentally envisions how he is going to replace the bone. He wants to get it right the first time so as to limit the pain Castiel will inevitably feel. Once he is fairly convinced he will be successful, he snaps it back into place. Castiel throws his head back in pain and manages to keep from crying out. Dean gives him a moment before he guides the wing into its folded position.

"I'm going to need that trench coat." Dean says. "I don't know if we'll be able to split it in two but—"

And before Dean finishes his sentence, the coat is separated in perfect halves in his hand. He blinks dumbly for an instant but shakes his head and resumes his mending process. He ties the trench coat halves on Castiel's broken wing so as to keep it in its proper folded position without the Angel having to struggle to do so through the pain. In his experience, a sparrow takes roughly a week to rehabilitate himself from such an injury. He supposes an Angel takes even less time but Dean doesn't think – hopes – they'll be in Hell long enough for Castiel's mojo to kick in.

"Thank you." Castiel says quietly and stands. He turns to face Dean and their eyes lock instantly. And for a moment they're both lost in each other for a reason they can't quite explain. Dean, however, realizes he really likes the Angel's eyes. The blue reminds him of the sky on a warm, sunny day and exerts a certain air of hominess and familiarity. "We need to go." Castiel says.

"Right." Dean nods and follows Castiel again.

For the most part, as they continue to walk the eerie forest path, Dean stares at the ground. He glances over at Castiel a couple of times but never looks anywhere above his chin. He isn't quite sure why he's so flustered and is behaving strangely but decides not to dabble. Sometimes he just can't make sense out of his actions and reactions. Thus he continues as they are, looking at the ground until the ground begins to tremble vehemently again and the landscape changes.

This time there are hills with the occasional burnt trees. However, there are also rotten flowers every now and again that emit a poisonous gas that smells like something similar to sulphur. Dean wonders if they are hazardous to his life but remembers he is dead and so the flowers most likely had no effect on his health because he had none. It is impossible to die in Hell and he has witnessed the proof first hand on multiple occasions but he pushes the gruesome memory away. He doesn't want to think about the thirty years he spent being torn to pieces savagely.

Later, when they stop again for the 'day', Castiel guides them off the path and under the shade of a massive tree. They sit beneath it comfortably and Castiel offers his non-wounded wing as a pillow again which Dean accepts gladly.

"I just need four hours." Dean reminds Castiel. "Wake me up if it's been four hours so we can get a move on."

"I understand." Castiel responds.

Dean flinches when he feels the longer feathers curl around him again but eases into the touch. He isn't quite used to be put in a situation where he is treated the way he would treat a woman – with care and love – but quite enjoys it. He has never really been shown care during his life – something Castiel would know if he really has been watching him his whole life.

Dean looks around them once more and eyes the red hills suspiciously. He can't see anything and yet he can still feel a pair of eyes upon him. He wonders if it's just his imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Who's the _thing_ following Dean and Cas? 4 reviews are still requested to find out ;P**


	4. Albus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Decided to upload the next chapter uber quick before I left for work, don't know if that worked out or not lol**
> 
> **I don't have much to say other than etymology fascinates me and I spend probably more hours than I should looking up the meaning for names. I"ve started to get the hang of noticing similarities and commonly used prefixes and suffixes but there are still the occasional names that surprise me.**
> 
> **Latin is a cool language.**
> 
> **ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Turns out I didn't have time until AFTER work lol**   
> 
> 
> * * *

Dean barely sleeps for an hour when he's urgently nudged awake by Castiel. He is still drowsy and heavily confused by everything and it takes him a moment to register the Angel's words. Finally, Castiel snaps and redirects Dean's attention by pointing to something at the foot of the hill on which they're sitting. It looks like a woman. Her clothes are torn and parts of her skin have melted to her bones. Her hair is overgrown and messy, covering her face though Dean imagines it's in a worse condition than her body. She is impossibly thin and should be swaying on her feet but she is perfectly immobile.

"A daemon?" Dean asks wearily, unconsciously gripping at Castiel's arm.

"No." Castiel responds quietly, "I would have sensed her long ago."

"Then…" Dean asks slowly, "What is she?"

"A tortured Spirit, most likely." Castiel answers and begins to stand. He assists Dean in the process holds him closer protectively.

Seeing as Dean isn't being whisked away into the chained sky, he feels very much embarrassed by his seemingly girly role and pulls away from Castiel. He glares at him a silent message of being able to defend himself though the Angel still doesn't let him stray out of his wing's reach.

"She is at the last stage." Castiel says grimly, "A couple more days and the rest of her humanity will be burned away. She is becoming a daemon."

"How long has she been here?" Dean asks, "And why is she following us?"

"I am not quite sure…" Castiel says slowly, "But something tells me she has been hear just a tad bit longer than you."

Dean looks at Castiel and then to the woman. He doesn't know if she's staring at them but it's a fair bet that she is. "What should we do?" he asks.

Castiel responds by pulling out his silver blade without a second thought, "I will smite her—"

Dean manages to grab him before he can attack the woman. "No!" He shouts, "She hasn't done anything."

"Her soul is corrupted, Dean." Castiel tells him, "She cannot be saved. She will most likely aid the others in your capture."

"But she's not _doing_ anything!" Dean defends.

In all honesty, he's not exactly sure _why_ he's defending her. It was as Castiel said, she is a corrupted soul on the verge of becoming a daemon. He has no reason to let her live and Castiel's reasoning is compelling and yet Dean insists. There's something about the woman – pity maybe – that urges him to leave her be. He is reminded of someone he has met but he can't quite place the feeling and identify the who.

Castiel stares at him with a heavy frown. He evidently still wants to purge her but sheathes his blade in his sleeve and grabs a hold of Dean's hand. "Come." He says and leads him away, "We will rest elsewhere."

Dean doesn't argue nor does he pull away from Castiel's hand. He allows the Angel to guide him away and glances at the woman one last time. She still hasn't moved a muscle but Dean feels her eyes following them. He shudders and turns away, a sense of guilt and revulsion settling in his stomach's pit. He doesn't understand why he feels guilty. Perhaps he has tortured her among the many other souls that had found their unfortunate way on his table? He doesn't remember. There were too many of them and none of them stood out.

* * *

The ground shifts once more as they walk away from their resting place. They find themselves on a very narrow trail high in the mountains. Dean peers over the edge and immediately returns to the rock wall upon seeing the never ending precipice. They are in a very dangerous place and he hopes there are no daemons nearby that will attack them. Castiel's wing is broken and if they would ever fall, they would probably never make it out.

They continue to walk and Castiel has a hold on Dean's hand seeing as they are unable to walk side by side. Dean feels himself getting gradually more tired as they climb up and down the uneven path. He wants to rest and sleep; the hour he got was evidently unsufficient. However he doesn't voice his complaint. They're in Hell and Castiel is attempting to save him and he's delaying their progress by insisting on resting for at least four hours at the end of each 'day'.

Castiel nonetheless still seems to pick up on Dean's exhaustion. They soon come unto a small cave on one of the more narrow paths. The Angel leads the way in and, luckily, it's much bigger than it initially appears. Dean and Castiel can stand upright and still have a couple of inches to spare the top of their heads. They seat themselves on the farther end of the cave with a view on the exit and Dean soon falls asleep again. This time he finds no shame in being particularly close to his saviour.

* * *

Dean wakes up with a jolt. Castiel jumps in surprise at his abrupt awakening and looks rather confused by it. He cocks his head lightly to the side and says: "What is wrong, Dean? You have only been resting for two hours now…"

Dean can't quite put his finger on the unease he feels pulsing through his veins. He looks around the cavern wearily and still feels unsafe after seeing it vacant. "I don't know…" and he begins to stand, Castiel imitating him, "I just think we should go…"

Suddenly the familiar silhouette of the partially burnt woman is standing in the cave's entrance. Her legs are parted just like her arms and Dean can see her chest rapidly rising and falling as though she had been running for miles. Castiel immediately pulls out his blade and is about to attack when Dean stops him again. The woman clearly seems more agitated than before and Dean is unsure why he's still allowing her to live when she seems ready to attack them.

"Dean—"

"Just wait!" Dean snaps.

Guilt and repulsion return. He wonders why he feels repulsed by her – he has seen some far more gruesome sights during his stay. And then it dawns on him that the repulsion isn't felt towards the woman but rather in regards to himself. He feels guilty about something he did and is disgusted by it. The feeling confuses and perplexes Dean all the more mainly because he still can't place the woman. He thinks for a brief instant that she might be someone from a case he and Sam worked at one point. He only recalls one that involved Hell Hounds and crossroads daemons that had made a victim of a woman – a doctor. However, Dean never had the opportunity to meet with her when he and Sam took on the case. He seriously doubts it's her.

"Who are you?" He finally asks.

The woman is quiet save for her heavy and noisy breathing. She stares at them and though Dean can't see her face, he feels her becoming angry with him.

"Dean…" Castiel says slowly and his hand wanders to Dean's.

" _Ni subla_." She says.

There's something familiar about her voice. Dean is sure he has heard it before but he still can't remember from where.

"What?" He asks and looks at Castiel for answers.

"She spoke in Latin and reversed the letters." He says and he almost seems as confused as Dean, "She said: _within white_."

"What does that mean?" Dean asks and he isn't quite sure he's asking Castiel as much as he's asking the woman.

The woman doesn't answer and Dean feels her anger filling the room.

"Spirits in this stage are very unpredictable." Castiel informs, "They still retain a part of their humanity but, like daemons, can only communicate in Latin when lacking a human host. More powerful daemons can speak a variety of languages but she is not quite there yet."

" _Ni subla_." She repeats and her irritation is palpable.

"I think she might be trying to get you to remember her." Castiel says.

"I don't know what to associate _within white_ with!" Dean states and his gaze snaps back to the woman as she growls.

"Think!" Castiel encourages and grips at his blade tightly. "Have you ever worked a case with which the words can be associated?"

"No…" Dean says and thinks as hard as he can. The words are so vague and could easily be applied to a variety of things but Dean doesn't know what to do with them. However, he still feels as though he knows what the woman is saying to him. It's like she's…

"What is it?" Castiel asks when he notices Dean freezing.

"I think…" Dean says slowly and looks at her quizzically, "I think she's trying to tell me her name."

The tension and anger suddenly dissipates and Dean knows he has guessed accordingly. He isn't sure why he had assumed that but he was right to. He attributes it to the part of him that seems to know her but can't remember her.

"Etymology…" Castiel concludes.

"I don't know the etymology of names let alone the ones for _within white_." Dean states.

"Luckily, I do." Castiel declares, "I will go in Alphabetical order."

Dean nods. The woman seems strangely calm and patient with them.

"Aeronwen?" Castiel asks.

"No." Dean responds and he wonders why Castiel would suggest such a strange name.

"Ailbhe?" Castiel continues.

"Think modern." Dean offers.

"Bai?" Castiel asks.

"How is that modern?" Dean asks in frustration.

"It is Chinese." Castiel states.

"No." Dean says and shifts his gaze back to the woman. Her name is definitely not Bai but it seems rather close to it.

"Baila?" Castiel suggests.

Dean wouldn't quite qualify that one as modern but it's far too close to the name for him to snap at Castiel. Every fiber in his body screams at him, telling him he knows it and it's at the tip of his tongue but he can't say it just yet—

"Bela?"

Dean freezes.

"Say that again…" He mutters.

"…Bela?" Castiel repeats.

_Bela_.

Dean looks at the woman. Her hair seems to have parted from her face. It's utterly mutilated and yet he can still see the defining features of Bela Talbot, the beautiful and yet incredibly infuriating supernatural thief.

"Bela…?" Dean tries and a spark of humanity seems to return to her.

She stands upright, as though she has been freed from hypnosis or something alike and looks at Dean with familiarity. "Dean…?" She says, her British accent easily distinguishable. "Is that you…?"

A smile breaks out on his face followed by a sigh. But Dean isn't happy to see her. How could he be? She is ruined and on the verge of becoming an abomination. Castiel says she is already lost and Dean doesn't know how to save her. The mere thought of his uselessness in regards to Bela's fate triggers the memory of the dismay he felt when she was dragged to Hell. At the time he felt rather cross with her and didn't let it show that he was bothered by not being able to save her but the emotion was very much present. At the time, saving her would have meant there was a possibility to spare Dean.

"What happened…?" Dean eventually asks.

Bela seems surprised by the question and looks down at her body. She smiles bitterly upon seeing her melted flesh and parts of her exposed bones. "Hell." She says comically, "What are you going to do?"

"How long have you been here?" Dean asks.

"About fifty years or something." Bela admits, "I don't remember pissing off _that_ many daemons but, apparently, I did. I'm paying the price for it now, I suppose."

"I'm…I'm sorry…" Dean says regretfully and, for some reason, the apology sparks a violent anger within Bela.

Her green eyes become animalistic, "Sorry?" she repeats with a growl, "As I recall it, you were going to kill me yourself!"

Dean is taken aback by the sudden change and is too baffled to defend himself.

"All you ever did was push me around!" Bela growls and takes a threatening step forward, "You treated me like a piece of shit, mocked and humiliated me! And then when I was about to be sent to Hell, you told me off! You said you would have helped me if I would have asked but we both know that was bullshit! You took pleasure in knowing I was going in the pit and would be tortured for the rest of eternity!"

"That's not—"

"Shut up!" Bela roars and her voice echoes in the small space, "You condemned me from the moment we met, Dean Winchester! You hated me with a passion, you know you did!"

"She is becoming violent, Dean…" Castiel warns when Bela takes another step forward.

"You would have taken pleasure in torturing me like all the others!" She then snaps and Dean feels terror ripping through him. He wants her to be quiet. He wants her to stop speaking. "I heard about what you did! It's Hell's hottest topic!"

_Shut up._

Castiel looks at Dean wearily.

"Everyone here knows you've become Alastair's prized pet!" Bela continues with a demonic laugh, "Word in the pit says you even let him fuck you a couple of times too! You sick bastard!"

_Stop it._

"You let a _daemon_ fuck you!"

_Shut up._

" _A daemon_!"

Dean can feel Castiel's intense stare and he hates it.

"And now," She gestures Castiel with frustration, "You get to be _saved_! Raised from perdition! All the daemons are freaking out over it, Alastair especially. He doesn't want his _sex bitch_ to leave him."

_Shut the fuck up_.

"Why do you get to be saved, Dean?" Bela asks in dismay, "I am _raped_ and _abused_ by my father and mother! I am _tortured_ by my _family_ and live the most miserable of lives until I'm fourteen and finally acquire the power to make things better. The price, however, is damnation! How is that remotely fair!? Why do I deserve to rot here and become a daemon while your nasty sins are forgiven?"

_I said stop it._

Dean is unable to look away. Bela's skin seems to start melting again as she takes another step forward.

"You've killed far many more people than I have!" Bela continues, "You've _tortured_ souls and let one of the worst daemons out there _fuck you_ for the _sheer pleasure_ of it! But the big man upstairs still gives more shits about you than he ever will about me!"

_Fucking stop it!_

"I hate you!" Bela screams.

" _I said shut the fuck up_!" Dean snaps.

He isn't sure how he's gotten a hold of Castiel's blade but he still manages to stab Bela with it. She seems rather surprised and her body flickers orange briefly. She looks at him with a shocked expression.

"I knew it…"

Dean gasps and just then her spirit explodes, leaving only black ashes. Dean stares at it for a moment. Thoughts are racing through his mind, most of them include Castiel. He is afraid to turn around and face the Angel. What will he think of him now? Will Castiel abandon him and leave him to rot in Hell? Surely he isn't worth God's forgiveness after torturing souls, spilling blood and fucking Alastair. A Righteous Man doesn't do those sort of things. He knew Castiel made a mistake. The Angels were probably referring to a different Dean Winchester.

"Dean…"

Dean is shaking. He feels Castiel walk closer to him and stop a few paces behind. He slowly reaches and pulls his blade from his hand. He can't help himself. He falls to his knees and begins to sob. Castiel will leave him behind. Castiel will hate him. Castiel will find him disgusting. Castiel will think he isn't worth saving. Castiel will leave.

Castiel will—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **Bela, with one l, is the Slavic word for _white_ but also means _within_ in Hungarian. The name was used by multiple Hungarian kings.**
> 
> **Am I the only one who wonders about what happened to Bela? I mean, I hated that character (love the actress though, she's Maggie from the Walking Dead :DD) but I'm still curious lol This is my take on what went down lol**  
>  **4 chapters are still required to unlock the next chapter**


	5. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So I'm actually really tired and consequently have no idea if I made any stupid mistakes XD**
> 
> **I tend to get verb tenses confused when I'm tired (because the past tense is my default setting) so I hope I actually noticed all of the times I made the mistake and fixed it**
> 
> **In any case, ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

Castiel places a hand upon Dean's shoulder. The typical purity and peace Dean normally feels wash over his body is absent and he lowers his head pathetically. He keeps thinking that there's something he could have done to keep Castiel from knowing. He should have let the Angel smite Bela the first time they saw her to avoid everything. He should have known that taking pity on a creature in Hell would lead to something terrible. People were in Hell because they deserved it or were stupid enough to sell their souls to a daemon. The thought seems almost ironic as Dean reckons he mistakenly took pity on Bela whereas Castiel misguidedly took pity on him.

Bela was right, he didn't deserve to be saved.

"Rise, Dean Winchester." Castiel tells him softly.

Dean's breath hitches. He notices how Castiel made use of his last name. He understands what it means. He is going to be left behind. He is going to be forsaken by God and Castiel – by the Angels. He will not be raised from perdition. He will rot in Hell and become the very thing he and Sam once hunted: daemons.

It takes him a moment but Dean finally convinces himself to stand. He nonetheless refuses to face Castiel. It's pitiful, he knows. He's acting like a child. Though he's evidently weak and obviously sobbing, Dean still thinks that keeping the Angel from actually seeing his tears will maintain his status as strong, independent and unbroken. He knows he's wrong but he can't destroy his own logic in his current state. There are more present matters to be dealt with, though Dean hoped to have avoided them.

"Look at me, Dean Winchester." Castiel commands.

His voice isn't as soft as it was moments ago. Dean knows Castiel has begun to see him as what he really is. Dean knows Castiel hates it. Dean knows Castiel is disgusted. His tone suggests it and Dean isn't stupid enough to convince himself otherwise. He must face the truth, as terrible as it is.

Dean slowly turns to face Castiel. The Angel's features are dark and grim. He seems very concerned about what Bela had divulged before dying a second death in Hell. "Tell me the truth…" Dean winces at Castiel's tone, "Did you truly spill blood in Hell?"

Dean is speechless for a moment. He knows the answer is written on his face but that Castiel will want to hear him say it anyway. He doesn't know how to persuade himself to say it. He doesn't want to be left behind. He doesn't want to become a daemon. He doesn't want—

"Yes…" Dean chokes out.

Castiel's eyes widen in something akin to dismay and disappointment. However, that emotion is soon casted aside to make place for the very singular disappointment. The Angel wears it so blatantly and it kills Dean. Dean almost wants to throw himself in the precipice just off the mountain's narrow path. He doesn't want to have Castiel's disappointed stare resting on his person. He doesn't want so many things. But Hell is the place where miseries and misfortunes come true regardless of what someone wants and Dean knows that there is nothing he can no longer do to avoid what is happening.

Castiel will leave him behind. Castiel will hate him. Castiel will forsake him and Alastair will find him. Alastair will torture him. Alastair will tear him down to shreds, build him back up and do it all over again. Dean will suffer for all eternity.

"Cas—"

"Come." Castiel says instead.

He takes Dean's hand and leads him out of the cave. Seconds later they are on the mountain's narrow path and they're continuing their journey. Dean is confused. Dean doesn't understand. He knows he shouldn't concern himself with Castiel's kindness and resolution to break him out of the pit even after hearing what a horrible person he has been for the past decade but he can't help himself. Dean doesn't understand. Dean wants to know. He wants to understand why, after everything, he is still worthy of being saved in the Angel's eyes.

He opens his mouth to try to speak but no words come out. His overwhelming emotions are paralyzing his speech and all Dean can do for now is allow Castiel to lead him and cry. And so he does. And he cries for a long time. At one point, Dean isn't exactly sure why he's crying anymore. At first it had been to lament the horrible deeds he had committed and then it had turned to something else. He didn't know what but the more he thought, the more he realized it was because of Castiel. The Angel hasn't said a word to him and Dean wonders why. But rather than have Castiel explain his silence, Dean wants him to tell him that he is forgiven.

He wants Castiel to forgive him.

But Castiel says nothing and Dean remembers he's in Hell. His utmost miseries will come true whereas his greatest desires will go by ignored.

* * *

They make it out of the Mountain trail and onto flat land without the landscape shifting. The precipice is nonetheless very close to the path and though there is enough room to walk side by side, Dean continues to walk behind Castiel. He feels exhausted now that he has finally stopped crying. He's embarrassed it took him so long. Nonetheless, he still feels like shit and hesitates to speak to the Angel.

Dean looks up at the chained sky, the green smog mixed with the criss-crossing chains seem to be a tad closer now and the light further up is still small but constantly visible. Just when Dean starts to wonder about why they haven't come across any daemons yet, black smoke appears before them and they are surrounded by at least twenty daemons. Most of them are lower class, speaking only in reverse Latin and constantly twitching as they try to keep their primal instincts in control. The stronger daemons are bigger and stand closer to Dean and Castiel all the while maintaining a proud and threatening stance.

"You move quickly for a wounded bird." One of them comments. He drawls his Ss' and moves in such a way that reminds Dean of a snake.

Castiel frowns and draws out his silver blade, ready to fight.

Dean worries. Castiel easily fought off five daemons but this was four times the amount. He's injured and he's alone. There's nothing much Dean can do to assist him since beating a daemon with his hands will literally have no effect. He doesn't want Castiel to fight and get hurt on his account. It's as the thought crosses his mind that it occurs to him that there _is_ something he can do.

He hesitates but Dean places his hand over Castiel's armed one. He forces it to lower as he says: "Don't." Castiel looks at him quizzically and seems far too confused to oppose Dean at the moment. Dean smiles sadly, "It's okay." And then he turns to the daemons to address them, "We'll make a deal." He decides, "You take me and leave him be, let him return to Heaven or wherever he decides to go."

The daemons start cackling noisily, some throwing their heads back violently and some others bending over to cradle their stomach. Dean nonetheless maintains his stoic expression to show that he does mean business. "Dean—" Castiel hisses and takes his hand.

"I don't deserve to be saved." Dean says quietly just before the most powerful daemon speaks.

"And _why_ should we consider taking this deal?" he asks with a hint of mockery and amusement.

"He took down five of your kind single-handedly," Dean states, "And not those weak shits you have standing around you, I mean a couple of guys that would have you shitting yourself."

The daemon frowns and begins to take Dean more seriously. "Alright—"

"Not so fast." Dean interrupts, "I want to make the deal a bit more precise."

"What did you have in mind?" the daemon asks.

"I'll go with you, whatever, that's fine." Dean says, "But no daemon is allowed to harm Castiel and lets him walk out of Hell freely and unharmed. At least, no more unharmed than he already is."

"Wise choice of words." The daemon grins, "It's a deal. Alastair will be happy to have his pet back."

"The things he'll do to you…" Another chuckles and shakes his head.

"The things he'll let _us_ do to you!" One on the left exclaims excitedly.

"You'll feel it forever." The strongest one grins wolfishly.

Dean isn't going to kid himself; he's scared. He can't even begin to imagine what Alastair will do and let others do to him because the man – daemon has an unpredictable and frightening mind. The last comment made was probably right. Dean imagines he will feel whatever happens to him forever.

"Well, good luck." Dean says and turns to Castiel to offer him a last smile. "You should go find your _real_ Righteous Man before you leave. I figure he might kind of be important if an army of you guys descended to get him."

The look Castiel gives him surprises Dean. The Angel looks at him as though he's an utter idiot – like he can't quite believe what Dean is telling him. Dean brushes it off as disbelief or something of the like. Castiel probably wasn't expecting his self-sacrifice because of what he's done. Dean smiles and glances back at the daemons who're waiting for him. He only takes a step forward when Castiel stops him.

"Castiel I—"

"I understand that you made a deal, Dean." Castiel says and Dean flinches as he sees fury in his blue eyes, "But it so happens that I did not."

And Castiel promptly launches himself at the horde of daemons. Dean is surprised by the ease in which the Angel tears his opponents to shreds and smites them. When he saw him fighting before, Dean saw no emotion in the action. It seemed like Castiel was fighting because he had no other choice. Now, however, Castiel seems impossibly angry. He seems like he's taking out his frustrations on conveniently placed opponents. And though Castiel is severely outnumbered, it looks like the current battle is much easier than the previous one.

Soon all of the daemons have been smitten and Castiel and Dean are alone again. Castiel is a couple of meters in front of Dean. He's breathing heavily and clutching his blade in a trembling hand. Dean is still stunned and wants to speak but words elude him. He simply continues to stare at the Angel's back dumbly.

"Do not…" Castiel eventually says and looks back at Dean, "Do not _ever_ do that again."

"Wh…" Dean manages to sound but he doesn't know what he wants to say. He now feels very upset and finds himself fumbling for instant before completely snapping. "I don't get it!" Dean cries, "I'm _not_ your Righteous Man! Why the hell are you still saving me!?"

"You _are_ the Righteous Man!" Castiel growls and takes a step forward.

"I am _not_!" Dean counters, "If I was the Righteous Man, I wouldn't have tortured souls and fucked a daemon repeatedly!"

"And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a Righteous Man sheds blood in Hell. As it breaks, so shall _it_ break." Castiel quotes, "It is unfortunate but does not change who you are."

"What!?" Dean snaps, "What are you talking about?"

"The Apocalypse and the 66 seals." Castiel says, "I thought you were familiar with the book of Revelations."

"I-I am!" Dean stutters and his heart starts to pound violently against his chest.

Dean was never big on religion like Sam was – is; Dean's not sure anymore. However, what with the life he was exposed to at such a young age, Dean only believed in what he could see. Seeing as he had never seen God or met anyone he trusts that has seen Him, he assumed it was just a story people told themselves to be less afraid – just like Angels. He never actually read the Bible either. The most he ever learned about it was of the time he spent at a couple of Catholic schools when John stayed in a city for a job. The rest, mainly about the Apocalypse, came from Sam.

Sam didn't talk about the Bible or the general scriptures avidly. He simply answered some of Dean's questions whenever the latter caught him reading the Bible. One of the times San had read him the very line Castiel had quoted moments ago. He hadn't thought much of it merely because he didn't know he _was_ the Righteous Man.

His thudded particularly painfully and Dean realized he wasn't breathing. His lungs felt like they were imploding and Dean desperately gripped at his chest as he fell unto his knees and suffered another panic attack. He has probably had more panic attacks in Hell than on Earth – this one, however, is probably the most violent. He grips at the red ground, trying to maintain balance as the word begins to spin and his vision begins to wobble. It's like he's on a bad trip.

Castiel tries to speak to him but his words sound jumbled and echo pointlessly in his ears. In that moment Dean feels entirely alone. He is losing his mind – in Hell no less – and is stuck in a nightmare that only seems to get worse by the minute. So much pressure is continuously being added to his shoulders and it all seems unbelievable. A part of Dean hopes that he's in the room Alastair provided him with or even on the torture table. He doesn't want to be Michael's Sword or the Righteous Man especially because the latter titles means he initiated the one thing humans fear the most.

Dean suddenly sees stars and his vision starts to blacken. He's not in control of his body anymore and his mind is strangely calm. He sees Castiel's face fade into the blackness and thinks to himself: _I'm fainting. That's manly._

* * *

When Dean comes to, the landscape has changed. There are trees again and he is lying beneath one. Everything looks miserable and bleak around him until he looks at what he's leaning on and sees Castiel. This time the Angel's wing and arm cradle him close to his body but Dean still doesn't feel a sense of purity or quaintness wash over him like every other time he's touched Castiel. Dean nonetheless remains against Castiel, staring at the dead and poisonous vegetation surrounding them.

"I didn't want to have sex with him." Dean suddenly he says. He isn't sure why he decided to start confessing now but Dean reckons he deserves to be heard. He feels Castiel's gaze upon him and Dean can't bring himself to meet it so he decides to continue. "Alastair." He specifies, "When he took me off the rack, a bunch of daemons got pissed. They weren't done torturing me yet but I'd made a deal with Alastair and he refused to put me back. So a couple of them started showing up randomly and attacking me and Alastair fought them off every time."

Dean pauses at the memory before continuing with a deep frown and empty gaze.

"But then he got bored." Dean says, "He told me that it was getting to be a hassle to constantly save my ass. I told him I could do it myself if he gave me weapons or something and he said I was in no position to be demanding things from him. He was kind of pissy and I was going to drop the matter when he suddenly mentions that we could make a new deal." Dean pauses again and shudders, "He said I could ask him for a weapon and he would deliver if I let him fuck me. And I did."

"He raped you." Castiel concludes softly.

"No." Dean shakes his head and it's only then that he notices the tears falling down his face, "As dubious as it was, it was consensual. But then it eventually just became consensual because I liked it. A lot. I got more and more weapons to protect myself and then, when I had all of them, I just let him fuck me. It's not like I fell in love with him or anything, it was just that I figured I was never going to get out and sex is sex so…" his words trail off.

Castiel looks away to the grim horizon and nods shortly.

"Everything Bela said is true." Dean finally says. "When I first started torturing souls, I didn't like it. I felt guilty but then it grew on me, I guess. I didn't want you to know because I knew you'd hate me for it."

"I do not hate you…" Castiel says slowly and Dean chuckles.

"Yes you do." Dean smiles bitterly, "I feel it."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asks.

"Whenever I used to touch you," Dean says, "Purity, peace and calmness would just take over. I felt clean and a bit like myself again. Now I feel nothing."

"I am not the one stopping it, Dean." Castiel says. "You are."

"Hun?" Dean asks, looking at the Angel.

"You are unable to forgive yourself for what you have done." Castiel says and meets his gaze, "Your mind understands that what you have done was in order to protect yourself. Your heart, however, insists that there was another way. But you are only human, Dean. You are in a cruel realm and sometimes humans must do terrible things to survive and that is okay – self-preservation is one of your many primal instincts and it does not disappear after death. Your self-loathing is projecting itself around you, Dean. If you finally come to terms with what you have done, you will find that my opinion of you has not changed in the slightest."

"How?" Dean asks unbelievably. "How could you not hate me?"

"Because I understand why you did it." Castiel answers, "And I already knew far before Bela said anything. I did find you torturing a woman's soul, do you not remember? You are only human, Dean."

"That's no excuse." Dean states.

"Sometimes it is." Casitel insists.

"If you knew I tortured souls," Dean says, "then why are you still trying to save me? I also, apparently, started the Apocalypse. Don't I deserve Hell, now?"

"No." Castiel says softly, "Only the Righteous Man who starts it can end it. Michael needs his Sword and he cannot use you if your soul is trapped in Hell." Castiel pauses briefly and then says, "Dean, you should let go of your remorse. You will get no forgiveness in this place and no else – not even I – can give it to you. The only one who can is you."

"I can't." Dean says and drops his gaze to the ground.

"Then come with me." Castiel says, "Leave Hell with me and do what you are meant to do and stop the Apocalypse. Save the world and consider it your repentance for your actions in Hell – but know that everyone else has already forgiven you. It is not blame that falls upon you, just fate. Until you come to terms with that, please refrain from making deals with daemons. I will _not_ leave you behind and I _will_ protect you no matter what happens."

Castiel stood and then offered his hand to Dean, "Now come. We still have a long way to go."

And Dean took his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I just want to be extra clear on the fact that Alastair did not rape Dean and he is not under some weird Stockholm syndrom impression that it was consensual when it actually wasn't. Their relationship was dubious at the beginning but that's all. In any case, 4 reviews are still required to unlock the next chapter.**


	6. Self

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Shorter chapter than all the other ones but hey, I think it'll be worth it XP**
> 
> **Dean is a very troubled child.**
> 
> **I always fancied that Dean would be prone to panic attacks after leaving Hell. I mean, it was a traumatizing experience so it's pretty normal but I don't think he was. He did have night terrors and was pretty jumpy but he never broke down in broad daylight because he was remembering things, I think.**
> 
> **Oh well.**
> 
> **ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

The walking seems endless and what with the recent information come to light, Dean isn't exactly comfortable or eager to maintain conversations with Castiel. In any case, they're still being followed and he supposes the silence is for the best. The landscape has changed again and they're in an insufferable terrain. Dean doesn't really know how to describe it. It's a bit like a bog except the murky water is molten lava. What's stranger is that they've been walking through it for a very long time and the landscape failed to shift. However, it wasn't like there was a specific timer that trigger the change – it happened spontaneously. It was still a rather frequent alteration and Dean thought it strange to last so long.

The further they venture through the bog, the more dangerous it became. The path snakes around, up and down little hills and was occasionally flooded by the lava. Dean assumes that if they accidentally fall into it, it would hurt like Hell but they would not die. At least he wouldn't. He is already dead. However, he refuses to risk it. He doesn't quite understand the rules of Hell and what can destroy a soul or daemon and what can't.

Castiel helps him over a couple of the flooded sections and for the particularly big ones, he holds Dean close to him and propels them to the other side with his useful wing. Dean feels a bit embarrassed to be put in the position he considers fit for a woman but has no alternative choice. He simply won't mention the effeminate moments to anyone when he leaves.

"You are quiet." Castiel remarks.

"Yeah, I guess." Dean mumbles. He's partially surprised Castiel initiated the conversation.

"Have I done anything to upset you?" Castiel asks.

"No…" Dean responds slowly. He's confused by Castiel's sudden talkativeness.

"Oh…" He says quietly, "If you are still flustered about the things I have said, do not worry. You most likely will not remember them."

"What?" Dean asks and speeds up to look at the Angel's face.

"Pardon?" Castiel returns.

"What do you mean I won't remember?" Dean asks.

"When I bring you to your body," Castiel explains, "I must recite an enochian spell to reunite your soul to it and consequently reanimate you. A side effect is memory loss about everything in regards to the spell caster. Of course, there are the few exceptions where memories remain intact but they are very low and most likely will not apply to you."

"So everything you told me, I'm going to forget?" Dean asks, "All of it?"

"Yes." Castiel confirms.

"Then what was the point in telling me in the first place?" Dean asks.

"You either wanted to know or needed to know." Castiel answers, "I have no reason to hide it from you, Dean."

"Yeah but it's pointless!" Dean argues, "All that crap about having started the Apocalypse and being the Righteous Man and Michael's Sword is going to be erased from my mind! You're basically telling me that you gave me those panic attacks for no reason!"

"I did not." Castiel counters, "The panic and anxiety you felt upon learning of it for the first time will not reoccur a second. Your soul will remember that you already know your role to play and you will react far better to it."

Dean is unconvinced but Castiel is far more knowledgeable on the subject and so is given the benefit of the doubt.

Silence returns and their march through the lava-filled bog continues. The heat is unbearable but Dean says nothing of it. He just hopes that the landscape shifts soon. Eventually Dean falls back behind Castiel. A part of him sees no point in walking next to him when they aren't speaking. Plus the path is narrowing again and both sides are cradled with bubbling lava.

They cross a stone bridge to another patch of land and that is when Dean sees it. He's not sure why but he's compelled to look to his left. There he finds an abnormally big tree. It's beautiful and looks perfectly healthy. Large roots arch above and into the ground and one of them trails across a river of lava like a bridge for anyone wanting to cross over. Dean suddenly veers off the path to get a closer look. He's mesmerized by how such a gorgeous creation could survive in such a rough and dangerous condition.

It takes Castiel a moment to realize that Dean has gotten sidetracked and by then it's too late. "Dean!" he calls out.

Dean is crossing the thick root to reach the tree. Strangely enough, he's actually having fun. What he's doing reminds him of when he was a kid and used to go out 'adventuring'. He hadn't had many opportunities to do that before John told him the truth about the world. Ever since then, Dean had been afraid to wander the woods or any non-public place alone and unarmed.

The second deep steps onto the magnificent tree's soil, the tree disappears. Dean is confused but in its wake is himself. His confusion quickly becomes apprehension. The last time he was literally confronted with himself, he tried to kill him. Like the first time, he can't see his copy's face but Dean fears that they're black. He tries to take a step back in the hopes to avoid whatever confrontation was meant to happen but he snaps a twig and causes his copy to flinch and turn wearily to face him.

Strangely enough, the Second Dean isn't as frightening or as menacing as the other one Dean had faced. This one almost just seems sad. His eyes aren't black and he doesn't hold himself in a confident stance to try and intimidate Dean. "Why can't you just be honest with yourself?" He says.

"Wh—"

"We'll never be happy if you don't." The copy concludes.

"This isn't that I'm My Worst Enemy bullshit again, is it?" Dean asks in disappointment. He should have known the tree was a trap.

"Does that even matter?" The copy returns, "You always change the subject and avoid the truth. We'll never be happy."

"Stop saying _we_." Dean snaps, "It's not you and me, it's just me."

"I _am_ you." The copy states and he sounds a bit angry, "And we'll never be happy."

"That's lovely." Dean snaps and turns to find a way off the patch of land. However the root that lead him there is gone. "How do I leave?"

"We'll never be happy." The copy repeats. This time he sounds more threatening and takes a step closer to Dean. "And it's your fault."

Dean barely faces him in time to avoid the hands aimed at his throat. He is nonetheless trapped fending off the copy whereas the latter tries to force his wrath. They're equally as strong and Dean knows that he won't win the fight easily or at all – at least, not alone and unarmed.

"We'll never be happy!" The copy yells, "Why won't you admit it to yourself!? Why can't you be honest!?"

"Honest about what!?" Dean growls back in frustration.

"We're scared! We're weak!" The copy snaps, "We need help! We're defenseless! We can't do this alone! We aren't the man dad wanted us to be! We don't—"

But Dean doesn't want to hear it and he doesn't want to have a repeat of Bela. A burst of adrenaline rushes through his veins and Dean finds the strength to shove the copy away. Before he can open his mouth, Dean nails a solid punch to his jaw and follows it by many more. His blows are hard and painful, his hands are aching and Dean feels the skin tear but keeps on going through the pain. He will make sure the copy doesn't open his mouth anymore. He doesn't want Castiel to know anything more about him. He doesn't—

"Dean!" Castiel's voice echoes in his ears and Dean slows down. "Dean! Stop it!"

And suddenly Dean is propelled back into reality. He wasn't even aware that he had left it. The tree has returned and the bridge is still there. The copy however, is gone and Dean's hands are utterly bloody and broken. Castiel stands by his side, his typically stoic face breaking to reveal worry and concern. Dean had been punching the tree and had barely left a mark on it aside from his blood.

"Dean?" Castiel asks, he sounds unsure whether he has actually gotten through to him.

"Y-yeah?" Dean stutters after a moment.

Castiel sighs and takes Dean's wounded hand. "Come." He says and leads the way away from the tree. Dean holds in a wince and groan of pain.

Castiel nonetheless notices and holds Dean with more care. He loosens his grip and alters his hand's position so as to not brush against the torn and broken areas. They only stop moving once they're back on the path and Castiel decides to look over Dean's hand. Dean looks as well and sighs. A couple of his fingers are crooked but can easily be popped back into place whereas the torn skin would have to mend on its own.

"What was that?" Dean asks as Castiel rips the cuffs of the dress shirt.

"The Tree of Temptation." Castiel says, he pauses as he cocks his head to decide whether to wrap the fabric around Dean's hand or fixing the fingers. Dean chooses for him. He grabs his fingers and yanks them back into place, groaning rather than screaming and repeats the gesture for the fingers on his other hand. "You might know it as the Forbidden Tree." Castiel finishes.

"From the Bible?" Dean asks, "Like the whole Adam and Eve fiasco? I thought that tree had fruits or something and gave out knowledge."

"The tree changed once it had served its purpose." Castiel explains as he ties the fabric around Dean's knuckles carefully. "Lucifer was the one to make it in order to corrupt Man. When it had successfully put Adam and Eve in a bad light and got them banished from Eden, he took it back to Hell. There it now becomes the greatest fear or biggest trouble the onlooker is currently experiencing. It typically leads them to madness unless they are brought back in time."

"Why aren't you affected by it?" Dean asks and gives Castiel his other hand to mend.

"Because I didn't look at it." Castiel replies.

"Dude, that's practically impossible." Dean states, "That thing is huge."

"I was looking at you the whole time." Castiel says and Dean isn't sure why his heart skips a beat, "Though I suppose I was looking at my principal fear."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, pulling his hand back.

"I was afraid I was going to lose you and be unable to save you as I had vowed to." Castiel says, "I am glad that I was wrong. Please do not run off like that again. If something intrigues you, warn me and I will explain to you what it is. I wish to avoid repeats of this."

"Okay…" Dean mumbles and feels like he's being scolded like a child.

Castiel smiles at him and Dean feels his heart skip another beat. Maybe he's on the verge of blushing but he doesn't dally and forces the thoughts away. He briefly looks at the ground and then back at Castiel. "Let's go?" He suggest.

Castiel nods and leads the way as he always does, "Dean, if you do not mind," Castiel says slowly, "May I ask what you saw?"

"What did _you_ see?" Dean asks instead, he's uncomfortable answering the question.

"I saw you walk away from the path." Castiel recalls, "I called your name many times but you did not respond. I followed you and the next thing I knew you were punching the tree. It is a pity my abilities are limited in this realm. I would have been able to heal you instantly otherwise."

"Oh…" Dean says and decides to answer, "Well…I saw myself."

"Why were you punching you?" Castiel asks curiously.

"I wasn't very nice to myself." Dean mumbles bitterly, "Look, I don't want to talk about it."

"I am sorry." Castiel says, "My curiosity gets the better of me more times than I would like."

They walk out of the lava bog after some hours and the landscape shifts. They're in the middle of a desert with nothing around for miles. Dean supposes this is the safest and yet most dangerous landscape they've been subject to yet. There is nothing to provide cover and yet daemons will be unable to sneak up behind them. He finds some comfort in that and looks up at the chained sky. Seeing the little light pierce through the darkness gives him hope.

Dean then notices he's walking by Castiel's side. As normal as that is, the thing that really gets him blushing is realizing that the reason he's keeping up with the Angel's pace is because they're holding hands. And Dean can't remember when their fingers laced themselves together nor for how long it had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Someone you've been waiting for may or may not make an appearance next chapter... 4 reviews are still required to unlock the next chapter**


	7. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I got a beta for this story you guys :D Her name is BlackLaceAndCrimsonRibbon (or her user is named as such) and she'll be going over the chapters to proof read them.**
> 
> **Now I know that some authors wait after their betas before uploading chapters but I assure you that will not be the case XP BlackLaceAndCrimsonRibbon will go over the already posted chapters and attempt to catch up with us. When she does, she'll have a day after the chapter is complete to proof read it before I upload it. If it takes her any longer the unproof read chapter will go up first and eventually be replaced with the corrected version.**
> 
> **So yeah, the grammar mistakes and missing words will soon be fixed :D**
> 
>   **EDIT: I work a lot this weekend and might not have the time/be too exhausted to post another chapter soon so you'll all have to be patient (maybe)**
> 
> **Now, ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

Dean and Castiel now walk through the ruins of a city. Castiel doesn't know what it nor why it's in Hell but it doesn't seem to be inhabited by other daemons. They're nonetheless cautious. They are in the midst of the perfect terrain for a surprise attack and they have no cover on the path. Dean is nonetheless fascinated by it. Skyscrapers and other tall buildings surround them. Most of the windows are broken and almost all of them have at least a section of a wall torn down. They're also encased by overgrown plants and one even has a black tree growing from an outer wall.

If this place weren't in Hell, Dean might have gone to explore it. As it was however, Castiel kept him close for fear of having him trail away again. Dean doesn't complain, he doesn't know what could pop out of the shadows and entice him away from his protector but he's still a bit irritated because Castiel makes him feel like a child. However he's too tired to start complaining and arguing with him and so Dean remains quiet and hopes they will stop soon to rest.

"So…" Dean mutters, "How long do you think it'll be before we're out of here?"

"I am afraid I do not know." Castiel admits, "We Angels have only been taught the path, not the duration. I suppose it varies with the pace."

Dean nods and glances over and Castiel's wings, "Do you know when your wing's going to be fixed?" he asks.

"No." Castiel says and shakes his head, "Hell has a peculiar set of rules and, as I mentioned before, my regeneration is affected by it. Typically, it would have taken me less than a second to fix but now I simply do not know."

"I'll check it when we stop _soon_." Dean declares, hoping his subtle hint was enough for the Angel.

"You do not need to preoccupy yourself with me." Castiel says, "I will be fine. You are the most important between the two of us."

"Don't talk like that." Dean mutters a bit angrily, "You saved my ass I don't know how many times. The least I can do is check up on your wing."

"You are very kind, Dean." Castiel says with a small smile and begins to lead them off the path. He's headed for a relatively short building with a door and only one broken window. "We will rest there until you are ready to leave again." Castiel says gesturing it with his chin.

Dean nods and follows.

The building is devoid of any piece of furniture. The floor is made of cement and is cracker. The whole sight of it reminds Dean of one of the many abandoned houses he and Sam spent nights in hunting ghosts. They seat themselves on the other end of the entrance, not bothering to scout the other floors – if daemons were hiding within the house, Castiel would have sensed them. And so Dean gets comfortable and leans against Castiel. He doesn't feel the embarrassment of it anymore and snuggles into the wing that always wraps itself around him protectively. Though Dean would never say it out loud, he feels safe with Castiel. He feels –

_No_.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean mumbles, his eyes drooping shut. He's far more tired than he thought he was.

"Yes." Castiel responds softly.

"Do you easily forgive everyone as fucked up as me?" Dean asks.

"You are not 'fucked up', Dean." Castiel says and Dean's breath hitches as he feels the wing squeeze him a bit tighter. "And no, I do not forgive. I was not wronged and so there is nothing to forgive."

"I'm glad you're as nice as Angels are supposed to be." Dean smiles and mentally smacks himself for having said so. _That sounds so girly, Dean! What the hell!?_

"I am glad that you are glad." Castiel responds and Dean feels like he's trapped in a cheesy chick-flick.

He mumbles something inaudibly and closes his eyes to allow sleep to wash over him. Just as he slips into unconsciousness, Dean feels the faint tingling of familiar purity.

* * *

Dean wakes up startled. He is somehow on the ground and though he is disoriented, he knows he has only fallen recently. His sight is blurry and he has a hard time seeing but Dean still manages to identify Castiel standing a few steps in front of him, his shiny silver blade drawn and ready for battle. He hurriedly pushes himself up and takes a step closer but ultimately freezes upon seeing their enemy.

"Good morning, Sunshine." Alastair purrs.

He's sitting on the window sill, his legs crossed and his arms folded over his chest. His head is lightly cocked to the side and he wears a devious grin. Dean recognizes the hunger in the other's eyes instantly and feels panic rise. Alastair is far stronger than the daemons Castiel has already taken down. Dean suddenly begins to think he might not actually make it out of Hell.

"I'm disappointed with you Dean." Alastair says, pushing himself from the window and strutting in their direction. Castiel takes a step back closer to Dean and twirls his blade in his hand. "You showed such promise. You were such a good pet."

Dean doesn't say anything. He simply rather not. Never has he ever felt such a high level of terror and dread. He doesn't know how exactly strong Castiel is but even still Dean prefers to run away and not try their luck. Alastair is insane and impossibly powerful.

"Cas…" Dean whispers and reaches for the Angel.

"I will not let him harm you, Dean." Castiel states with determination.

"What's this?" Alastair chuckles, "You've found yourself a guarding Angel? How ever did you manage to persuade him to help you?"

Dean's eyes widens. He understands what the daemon is on the verge of doing and, like with Bela, Dean has absolutely no idea how to stop it. He has no weapons but even if he did he wouldn't be strong enough.

"Castiel—!" Dean begs again, but more urgently as he tightly grips at his arm.

"Bet you've screamed that a couple of times already, eh?" Alastair snickers.

"I beg your pardon?" Castiel asks dryly.

"Don't play pretend." Alastair snaps, "That whore loves it up the ass. He's told you about us, hasn't he?"

"He told me you _raped_ him." Castiel frowns.

"Rape?" Alastair repeats and cackles noisily, "Is that the lie you've been feeding him?"

"Castiel, let's go—" Dean begs, tugging at his arm.

"That bitch screamed for more!" Alastair exclaimed, a huge grin paving his face, "I asked for sex, sure. I told him I'd get him whatever he wanted if he let me fuck that pretty little ass of his, I admit. But I never forced him to do _anything._ "

"You did so indirectly!" Castiel argues, "You forced him to do it because otherwise he wouldn't have had the means to protect himself!"

"And what would have happened to him then?" Alastair asks, "Daemons can't destroy souls. His body would have been torn to shreds and then reassembled at the end of the day like it always had. But if he really didn't want to endure the torture, he would have taken some of the torture tools from his station and brought them along wherever he went."

Dean lowers his head. He gives up on trying to coax Castiel to leave with him, Alastair is going to divulge everything.

"What?" Castiel asks and Dean winces as he detects disbelief.

Castiel hates him. He can feel it this time.

"Let me tell you the truth," Alastair said with a malicious grin. "What Dean has been so afraid of letting you know was that he let me fuck him because he enjoyed it. Sex is sex after all and he's supposed to be stuck here forever, but it goes beyond that reasoning." Castiel briefly glances back to Dean as he feels his grip tremble, "The very truth that Dean doesn't want _anyone_ to know is that he _loves_ dick. He's a flaming homo – literally!"

Dean's grip suddenly loosens and Castiel looks back again as he watches Dean back away to the wall with an utterly devastated expression. Castiel doesn't understand.

"Daddy's perfect soldier wasn't so perfect after all." Alastair smirks, "See, Dean tries to be this _manly man_ and flaunts it so _forcefully_ that you just swallow the pill. You believe it. You believe he wants to fuck every single woman he comes across because he's just that much of a lady's man. You believe he's as macho as he makes himself out with his douchey leather jacket and his black Impala. And what you'll consequently neglect to see under that whole charade is the longing looks he gives men as they pass by or the hungry stares and fantasies that he know he won't be allowed to act upon. But the rules in Hell are different and Dean has been curious and _famished_ for so long. Would you believe me now if I said he jumped at the opportunity?"

Castiel's eyes are still locked on Dean. Dean doesn't look at him, he stares pitifully at the ground. He most likely would crumple unto it if he wasn't holding himself up with the wall. Castiel is confused. He doesn't understand.

"If you want to know why he hasn't said a word about it," Alastair continues after a moment, "Redirect yourself to the popular opinion on homosexuals. They're terrible people, spawns of the Devil himself. God _hates_ them. _John Winchester_ hates them." Dean flinches at the mention of his father which only widens Alastair's evil smile.

"I'm not lying." Alastair adds quickly just as Castiel is about to speak. "You know the true nature of daemons right? We tell the truth only when we know it'll really fuck with your head. But you're an Angel. You can tell if I'm lying or not."

Castiel looks down and back at Dean. He doesn't know what to do nor what to say. He wants to comfort Dean but he has to take care of Alastair.

"I just want my pet back." Alastair said. "Hell knows he's been itching for a good dicking now. It's been a _very_ long time."

"I will not let you harm him." Castiel hisses and raises his blade. "I will raise Dean Winchester from perdition and all those who stand in my way will be smitten."

Alastair seems taken aback by Castiel's audacity. He nonetheless recovers fairly quickly and sighs in disappointment. "You Angels are such birdbrains." Suddenly Alastair is inches away from Castiel and swinging a knife at him. He barely has time to dodge but his wing is still lightly nicked. "You should have stayed with your flock!"

Castiel and Alastair engage in a furious battle. The swings they exchange are fast and violently precise though the other still manages to dodge. Castiel is still having much more trouble than Alastair is and receives the full brunt of the blow on more than one occasion. Feathers are flying everywhere and all Dean can do is watch. He wants to run away and try his chance at freedom but a more dominate part of him tells him to stay even if he knows there's nothing he can do. A Winchester does not leave anyone behind.

Castiel then suddenly manages to knock a solid punch on Alastair. The daemon stumbles back a few paces but he barely has any time to recover that the Angel is on him again. Castiel is pelting him with punches and finishes it all by stabbing him with his silver blade. Dean is amazed. He didn't think Castiel had a chance but now he's won.

Alastair's body flickers with an orange light as did all the other daemons before combusting into a pile of ash. However the last part never happens. The light stops flickering and Alastair is still sound and breathing. He grins at Castiel who is too shocked to pull away before Alastair flings him to the other end of the room. He hits the wall with such force that he breaks through it and lands on the other side of the next room. Alastair chuckles and steps forward, slowly pulling the blade from his chest and casting it aside.

"Did you really think your little toy would work on me?" He smirks, stepping into the room where Castiel is.

The Angel is struggling to stand and doesn't have the chance to get stable on his feet before Alastair proceeds to assault him. He begins by kneeing Castiel's gut, momentarily winding him, and then sending him hurling to the ground with a solid blow to the back of his head. Dean gasps and without thinking rushes in. He isn't going to watch as Castiel gets his ass handed him even if he is utterly defenseless and unarmed. He manages to shove Alastair away and stand between him and Castiel.

"Are you going to protect your Angel now?" Alastair chuckles. "Adorable. Tell you what Dean-o. You decide to follow me back home and I'll make his death quick and painless."

"No…!" Castiel wheezes. He finally gets to his feet by finding support on the wall.

"What else can we do?" Dean asks and turns to face Castiel desperately.

"This—!"

Castiel grabs Dean and stretches his wings as wide as they can go. The Band-Aid Dean had made with the trench coat halves suddenly disappeared and reappears on Castiel's body as a whole. And with a powerful flap, they're propelled out of the room. Castiel crashes through a wall, using his body to protect Dean from any damage and is just about to makeshift for the sky when he's jerked back with a violent force. They crash against a building and roll apart once they hit the ground.

Alastair walks towards them leisurely, "We can't have you running away _now_ , Angel." Alastair says with a sickly grin, "Especially not with what's rightfully _mine_!" he steps on Castiel's head and presses it to the ground. "We'll have to do something about those wings…"

Dean is just about to pounce on Alastair again when he's flung away by his mojo. Alastair then drags him to a wall and keeps him there with his daemonic powers as he turns to Castiel with an expression he typically wears when torturing a soul. Castiel can't find the strength to stand and fight off Alastair and all Dean can do is watch as the daemon's hands becomes a black flame which is lowered to the former's pure white wings. The screech Castiel releases echoes through Hell itself and surely temporarily deafens all daemons and souls.

He writhes desperately and flaps his wings furiously – anything in an attempt to get rid of the black flames but they remain. They burn through the feathers, leaving them ashy black as they continue to spread. Dean feels his heart rise to his throat and struggles to be set free. He screams and yells, he's not sure what he says but it's in the hopes to get Alastair to stop. Alastair, however, does not.

The black flames vanish on their own once they have covered the entire surface of Castiel's wings and burnt them black. He's quivering in pain beneath Alastair's foot, clutching at the ground and still struggling with what little energy he has left to try to fight off the daemon. Alastair laughs at his petty attempt and promptly stomps on the Angel's head repeatedly. Castiel's face is bloodied and broken when he stops and then he begins to kick him around. Dean can hear the bones crack under every blow regardless of the distance that separates them.

"Castiel!" Dean cries and he feels tears stinging at his eyes, "Fight, damn it!"

"Yes, Castiel, fight." Alastair chirps and nails another kick to the Angel's gut. "Don't make this boring for me."

Alastair takes a step back to allow the bloody Angel a chance. Castiel quivers and struggles to prop himself onto his hands. He ultimately falls back on the ground after only raising himself a couple of inches. He's too weak.

"Castiel!" Dean shouts. "No! You got to get up man!"

"Your Angel seems a bit tired, Dean." Alastair muses. He kneels and grabs a fistful of his dirty locks to take a look at his face. "I would put him out of his misery if torturing you with him wasn't so fun—"

Alastair is suddenly interrupted by Castiel who finds a burst of energy out of nowhere and is able to use some of his mojo to throw him away. Before he collapses again, Castiel rushes for Dean and rapidly flies them to the other end of the abandoned city. They crash on the floor and Castiel falls unconscious. Dean panics, not knowing what to do and fully aware that Alastair will find them very soon if they don't hide.

He takes the Angel into the nearest building and then cuts his hand open with a sharp stone. With his blood Dean covers every single wall with sigils he knows hides them from daemons. He doesn't know if they'll actually work in Hell but he has to try. Once he finishes, he returns to Castiel who is laying in a pool of his blood, his winds burnt and broken. Dean doesn't know what to do to mend them or help Castiel awake. He feels lost and hopeless. He doesn't know how he'll survive without Castiel. He presses his fingers to the Angel's pulse to see if he's still breathing and alive.

"Please don't be dead…" he whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **Someone told me a popular headcanon was that Castiel's wings were white but something happened in Hell and they became black. I fell in love with that headcanon so much that I HAD to include it in this story. Tell me your headcanons if you like, I would love to hear them :D**
> 
> **This chapter's landscape winks at my other SPN chapter fic ;D**
> 
> **4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter.**


	8. Candor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I don't even know how I'm managing right now**
> 
> **Like I'm so tired**
> 
> **But then I have a lot of time to think of what I want to add in the next chapters at work so everything makes sense.**
> 
> **Confession II: I've been trying to think of a cool and pertinent historical fact I could include in these author's comments but can't think of one...**
> 
> **BTW I update the tags and I'm saying this because my warnings for what happen essentially go there. I mean, if there's anything particularly mind-blowingly unexpected I'll add a warning here but that's not the case, you know?**
> 
> **Anyways, character development and a little surprise at the end ;D**
> 
> **ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

Castiel is somehow still alive and has been sleeping for three 'days' straight. Dean sits by his side and occasionally wanders to the window. He's seen many daemon parties walk by and none of them have noticed them. The landscape has also shifted various times and though the abandoned city is gone, their establishment still remains. Dean assumes it's because of the sigils.

Dean is at a loss of what to do. He has cleaned Castiel using the trench coat but that was about as much help as he could provide. Luckily his cuts and wounds are healing rather quickly – but Dean figures it might be slower than what the Angel is used to. His face is no longer swollen and bruised though there are still cuts on his forehead, cheek and nose that have yet to close. The nasty bruises covering his torso are fading though the ones on his ribs are still very much present. Castiel's wings are a whole other matter. Dean thought the wings would start to retake their normal whiteness but they only seem to be darkening as time passes. Dean is afraid that it means that Castiel is dying and for that he curses his feeble knowledge on Angel lore.

"Come on, Cas." Dean says lowly as he takes his usual seat just next to the comatose Angel, "You got to wake up."

He's had this one sided conversation multiple times and though each time nothing happened, Dean still hopes. He also started using a nickname he has thought of long ago but never used. Dean feels nicknames should only be used when a friendship or something similar has been established. Anyways, He doesn't know why seeing as he typically would have given up long ago but he can't seem to do so with Castiel. He's different and Dean doesn't want to abandon him. Dean wants him to wake up.

"You know…" Dean mumbles, and he's not sure why he's changing the dialogue he's been repeating for three 'days' straight now, "I wanted to talk to you about what Alastair said." Dean grimaces at what he said; it seems so unlike him. "Or maybe I don't." he remedies but then admits: "I guess I just want to pretend I'm talking to you. Talking things out loud helps me cope you know?"

He looks over at Castiel.

Nothing.

Of course.

"I wonder what you think of me." Dean admits and rests his head back on the wall on which he's leaning, "I think I disgust you. I think you hate me. But then I keep thinking about what you told me. About how I project my negativity on things that surround me. And I wonder if I think what you think is what I really think of myself. If that makes sense."

Castiel doesn't even twitch. Dean can barely perceive the rise and fall of his chest to signify that he's still breathing and alive.

"I like women." Dean continues, looking at the ceiling, "Hell, I _love_ women. But I like men too. I can't help it. I've tried everything to stop but no spells or monster mojo do the trick. I think that if I don't pay any attention to some of the sexy ones that it'll just stop but it doesn't. And when a guy with a great ass walks by I can't help but stare. And _want_."

Castiel still doesn't move and Dean wonders why he's expecting him to.

"The people who say "God hates homosexuals" are stupid." Dean states, "I mean, when you think about it, the guy is supposed to be the most powerful thing in the world _and_ at the base of all our existences. He has to be busy to some extent, doesn't he? So why the hell would he start giving a shit about same sex relationships when he could be doing something more productive? Or why would He even give a shit at all? He's supposed to love all of his children, isn't he? As long as love is love, there shouldn't be anything wrong, right?"

Dean pauses and looks at Castiel's unconscious face. He can't help but notice how handsome of a man he is and how well he fits Dean's type.

"I have half a mind to give in to my urges and kiss you right now." Dean smirks and waits for a response. When he receives none he shrugs it off and goes back to dabbling through his thoughts and trying to sort things out. "So I think all of what, right?" he continues and his smile becomes bitter, "But I still don't have the balls to make a move and at least _kiss_ a guy I find hot. Even if I think the people who say "God hates homosexuals" are stupid and contest their opinion, I still hide because I don't want to be judged and I don't know why. A part of me thinks it has something to do with my dad but I think I'm just putting the blame on him because it's easier than putting it on myself. I mean, the guy's never openly stated he was against homosexuality and he's never even hinted to it. It's just the way he is, I guess."

Dean glances over at Castiel, "He's a man's man." Dean explains as though Castiel were listening to him even though he knows he's not. "When shit goes down you count on this guy to save your ass. He'll fuck the bad guys up and get the girl at the end of the story without a freaking problem. And that's how he raised us. And with all the things I've been hearing about homosexuality since I was born I figured that liking girls _and_ guys went against what my dad drilled in my head. I wanted to make him proud, you know? What son doesn't? And…I don't know, I was scared he'd be disappointed."

Dean stops, thinking for an instant that he saw Castiel's eye lids move. However after a couple of minutes of silence and nothing, Dean figured it was just his imagination.

"That was before though." Dean says, "Now that I've said everything out loud I think he wouldn't have cared. It's a bit like what I said about God. My dad had so many other things to worry about and bigger fish to fry so roasting me about my sexuality definitely wouldn't have been a priority. Hell, I don't even think he'd care. His main goal was to make sure me and Sammy could defend ourselves. So yeah, I guess I've made peace with that." Dean snickered, "Which is ironic, I guess, since I'm in Hell."

He looks at Castiel expecting him to share in the irony with a smile but he gets nothing. He's not sure why he's surprised.

"Now the one thing that troubles me again are the people who say "God hates homosexuals"." Dean confesses, "I still think they're stupid and don't know what they're talking about but now I worry that it might be true. In all honesty, I don't give a rat's ass about his opinion on me and if he hates me 'cause I like girls _and_ guys then he can go fuck himself. I don't care. I really don't."

Castiel seems almost too still now. Dean wonders if he's dead. His wings are pitch black now and it's the colour Dean assumed they would be if he had died. But he doesn't dally on it any longer. He doesn't want to think about being alone with a shit ton of daemons on his ass.

"What I care about now…" Dean continues, his heart thudding in his chest, "Is what _you_ think." Dean feels himself blush and hides his face in his hands out of embarrassment. "I don't even know _why_! Like how long has it been since we met? But… I do and I care… a lot." Dean takes in a deep breath and drops his hands on either side of him on the ground. "I mean, you're _really_ hot. That's one thing. But you saved my ass so many times and helped me in ways I can't even begin to describe. You don't judge me and, I guess, that's what I'm ultimately afraid of. I think: _sure, he's not judging me now but wait until he learns the whole truth_. People can surprise you, especially when it comes to things considered controversial and touchy."

Dean halts again. A part of him feels relieved to have heard the words that he's been thinking ever since Alastair went and told Castiel the whole truth. He feels relieved that he's had the opportunity to tell his side of the story even though no one was listening. Not that he wanted anyone to listen. But pretending someone was there made him feel better.

"So I guess that's it." Dean concludes, "What Alastair said is true. I'm not a homosexual but I am a bisexual. I didn't hesitate when he offered sex for weapons but he never told me I could lug around my torture tools – even still the thought did cross my mind but I didn't want to get in trouble for doing something I wasn't supposed to. Now you just need to wake up and tell me that you hate me before finding your way out of here alone—"

"I do not hate you, Dean." Castiel says.

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. Castiel startles him so badly that he almost tips over out of sheer shock. The Angel's eyes are wide open and he doesn't seem to be in any pain. He sits up and looks at Dean curiously – waiting.

"W-wh—! When— how—…!" Dean stutters helplessly.

"I have been listening since the very beginning." Castiel admits, "I heard everything you said. But, tell me, who is 'Cas'?"

"I-it's a shortened version of your name." Dean says.

"I see." Castiel nods, "I like it."

And then there's silence. Dean is waiting for Castiel to say something and the other seems to be doing the same thing. And during those mute minutes Dean has never felt more anxious. He's just waiting for the Angel to tell him that as soon as his wings get better he's going to leave him behind.

"Dean." Castiel finally says.

Dean flinches. "Yes?" he responds nervously.

"Please do not omit the truth again." Castiel says, "I do not hate you and your sexual preferences do not bother me. I am utterly indifferent."

Relief washes over Dean but he still can't quite accept the answer. "Why?" he asks.

"Because all Angels who engage in other relationships with Angels are technically homosexual." Castiel says blatantly. The confused expression on Dean's face speaks louder than his words ever could. "Angels are genderless creatures, Dean." Castiel explains, "We are only attributed a gender when we wear a vessel as I am right now. Seeing as homosexuality is, by definition, a personal attraction to the same sex – which all Angels share – thus all Angels are homosexuals."

Dean blinks dumbly. He understands what Castiel says. He comprehends the words. He just can't quite believe them.

"Why do you still seem confused?" Castiel asks.

"I-I just never expected to hear that…" Dean admits.

"I see." Castiel says with a short nod. "Now then, rest assured that God does not hate homosexuals nor any other of his creations who so happen to be different from the norm and neither do Angels. I think I prefer the unique humans. Especially those who aren't weighed down by the opinions of others."

"So I guess I'm not on your favourites list then." Dean jokes with a pathetic laugh.

"You are different, Dean." Castiel says. "I like you best."

Dean blushes furiously though doesn't notice until Castiel says something about it.

"Are you alright?" he asks, "Your face is red."

Dean shoves his hands in Castiel's face, forcing him to look in another direction as he tells him: "Shut up! You're embarrassing me!"

"I apologize." Castiel says.

"S'fine." Dean mutters, still as flustered as ever and peaks at the Angel. "How are your wings?"

Castiel looks at them and his neutral expression visibly darkens, "They have been tainted." Castiel says.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks.

"The black fire Alastair used exposes the flaws of Angels." Castiel explains and looks away in shame, "Contrary to what your scriptures say, Angels are not perfect. Each one of us has at least one noticeable weakness but none of them are displayed on their wings. This will bring shame to me."

Dean feels bad, especially because he sees himself as the cause of Castiel's wounds. "I'm sorry." Dean mumbles.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Castiel reassures. "I will simply have to cope."

"If…" Dean hesitates, "What's your weakness? You know, if you don't mind sharing…"

"Love." Castiel responds so easily that it confuses Dean.

"Love?" He repeats.

"Raphael and Michael have told me many times I love too much." Castiel explains. "Before coming here to raise you from perdition, my task was to watch humanity. I spend many millennia amongst your kind and have watched quietly as I was meant to. Father told us to love the humans as much as we love Him and so I did and still do. Though I am only supposed to watch, sometimes I can't help myself from interacting. From helping."

"How is that bad?" Dean asks.

"Humans are meant to remain oblivious about the existence of all supernatural things, Angels included." Castiel says, "Involving myself in their lives is reckless and thoughtless but I hate to watch them all suffer. So sometimes I appear and offer advice or make a small miracle and disappear."

"So wait," Dean says, "You're one of the persons who people talk about having had a meaningful impact on their lives? Like from those cheesy internet posts?"

"I am flattered to know that my disobedience was not for naught." Castiel says with a smile.

"I don't think loving is a flaw." Dean says.

"Neither do I." Castiel agrees, "But Raphael and Michael disagree."

"Then screw whatever they say." Dean states, "Wear your wings proudly because there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Castiel seems stunned for a minute but ultimately smiles. "That is some good advice, Dean." Castiel says and Dean doesn't overlook the insinuation.

Their eyes lock together and Dean is entranced. Castiel's eyes are like the blue sky and whenever Dean looks at them he feels like he's a step closer to freedom. And without thinking he leans in and presses their lips together in a kiss. However, it barely lasts a second because Dean realizes what he's doing and jerks back in embarrassment. He tries to say something, anything, but only senseless babbles come out.

"I-I—! It—! I didn't—" Dean tries. He feels so stupid and thoughtless.

"It is okay, Dean." Castiel reassures, "You do not disgust me and I am not bothered."

"R…really?" Dean asks cautiously.

"Yes." Castiel confirms with a short nod, "As I said before, I am very fond of you."

Dean's heart skips a beat. He doesn't say anything and shifts his gaze to the ground where he feels far less embarrassed to look at. However, in the next short seconds, Castiel leans over and tilts Dean's chin up to capture his lips in another kiss. The action is unexpected – Dean didn't think Castiel would be so daring since he comes off as rather awkward or uninterested in any and all things sexual – but Dean melts into it instantly. When they break apart, Dean lingers for a moment and his eyes flutter open.

"It is my understanding that humans show fondness through kisses." Castiel states.

"I don't think 'fondness' is the right word." Dean supposes.

"What would be more accurate?" Castiel asks.

"Love." Dean answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **Imma be honest, Castiel and Dean were supposed to finally have sex there but it didn't work out that way. When they have sex I want it to make sense and as we can see, due to Dean's state of mind and whatever, having him have sex with another man seconds after starting to come to terms with himself seems a bit random.**
> 
> **But don't worry, it'll happen soon (I won't say when because I want it to be a pleasant surprise)**
> 
> **In other news, my logic on why Angels are homosexuals amuses me greatly.**
> 
> **4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter.**


	9. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So this chapter is a monster and I'm pretty sure it was worth the wait.**
> 
> **However, in all honesty, I don't know how I feel about this chapter. In my opinion, Castiel is still in character but...like, maybe more the anime version of what an emotionless and socially retarded character is supposed to be...? I don't know.**
> 
> **What I do know, however, is this fun fact that you may or may not already know if you're as obsessed or curious about History as I am:**
> 
> _**Homosexuality wasn't always seen as a terrible thing through out History. Actually, people only really started hating on it once Catholicism made its appearance. In Ancient Greece, a boy had to get it up the butt to be considered a man. In Ancient Rome, it was also considered fashionable for a time to have an affair with someone of the same sex. Sometimes the husband or wife would invite their boyfriend/girlfriend (respectively) to join in on bedroom fun.** _
> 
> **The more you know :D**
> 
> **I actually had to learn this while reading a mandatory and INSANELY boring book called "Les neuf clés de la modernité" (The nine keys to modern life) by Jean-Marc Piotte. He specifically talks about this in chapter 5 - "l'amour et non la reproduction" (love and not reproduction) for those who are curious (though I assure you, as fun as learning that was, reading his book is definitely NOT worth it).**
> 
> **In any case, ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

They stay in their hiding spot for a couple more days. Castiel protests the decision but Dean has none of it. He doesn't want to leave until he can see visible improvements on the Angel's most wounded section – his ribs. And for the better part of five 'days', they do absolutely nothing. Both of them find the time long and unsettling and every 'day' Castiel argues that they are wasting it. He attempts to convince Dean to leave the house and continue their journey but every time Dean replies no. When they're done arguing, silence typically falls upon them but eventually breaks when Dean decides to instigate a conversation.

Castiel isn't particularly talented with small talk. Dean asks him mundane questions the answers to which he isn't exactly dying to know. Most of his questions have to do with Angel lore and Castiel does teach him a lot. One thing that shocks him and that he wasn't expecting was learning that God had disappeared long ago. Castiel insists He's not dead but there's no way to know for certain – then again, Dean doesn't believe God can die. In any case, Michael seems to be running Heaven alongside Raphael. When Dean asks about the archangel Gabriel, Castiel saddens and states that he too has disappeared. Apparently they were very close.

However, when Dean is not asking questions and Castiel isn't talking about his kin, that's when things get awkward very fast. Castiel has somehow gotten it in his head that kissing people is a normal thing and is done rather often. He states on more than one occasion that he sees people kiss all the time and doesn't understand that it's something only people who are in love do. He also mentions seeing some of them offering money to women and disappearing into small thickets meters away. Castiel doesn't understand what they do and Dean feels far too awkward to explain it to him. He doesn't want to have 'the talk' with someone he views as a grown man.

Nevertheless, Castiel constantly leans in for kisses when Dean wakes up or before he goes to sleep and sometimes when it's been silent for a good while. Dean is able to evade him most of the times but gets particularly flustered and embarrassed when he fails. Castiel is a very attractive man but seeing as Dean isn't quite comfortable with who he is just yet, he doesn't want to indulge in homosexual activity just yet. And Castiel is utterly clueless about it. The Angel may be great at giving advice, he is outright lost when it comes to reading the mood or understanding subtexts. In Dean's opinion, Castiel's flaw is not love but rather cluelessness.

And today is no different.

Dean wakes up feeling the faint tingle of purity that comes with touching Castiel. The feeling isn't as intense as it once was but Dean figures it's better than feeling nothing. He is very groggy and disoriented – his body or soul isn't accustomed to long hours of sleep though they're still a very welcomed change. And like most of the time, Castiel swoops in for a kiss. The soft contact on his lips wakes Dean up immediately and has him jolting, as it always does, to the other end of the room.

"Hello Dean." Castiel says with his typical deadpan expression as though what he has done is normal.

"Damn it, Cas!" Dean snaps and covers his lips momentarily before shaking his head and sitting up properly. "I told you to stop that!"

"I am sorry." Castiel responds and looks the floor.

Dean feels bad; the Angel seems a bit upset. He sighs, "Ah…whatever. It's fine." He grumbles and stands up.

Dean stretches his legs and then his back and arms. He pauses mid movement when he realizes Cas is staring at him intently. "What?" he asks.

"I can see your belly." Castiel notes.

Dean lowers his arms immediately and feels a violent blush engulf his face. "Oh my God, Cas!" Dean hisses. Spending so much time with the Angel who has nothing better to do than kiss Dean and embarrass him is really taking a toll. Dean has half a mind to simply give in to what Castiel wants and return to the path but the nasty bruise covering his ribs is a reminder of what dangers lie outside of their building.

"I do not understand you are embarrassed so easily." Castiel states, "I thought we were friends."

Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "We _are_." Dean says, "We talked about this. A lot. Friends don't kiss other friends and they don't make sexual comments—"

"Though in some cultures stomachs are considered very sensual, I believe it is not shamed in America." Castiel states. "Is it because my vessel is male and recently admitting your bisexuality has made you more sensitive to my staring?"

Dean's blush feels like it's spreading. "Let's not talk about this…" Dean dismisses and moves over to Castiel who is still seated neatly against the wall. He kneels and inspects the black feathers. "How are your wings?" Dean asks, "I remember you told me they hurt."

"They are better." Castiel says though his wings still flinch ever so slightly when Dean brushes his fingers through them.

"Sorry." Dean says and pulls back, "I should have known they were still sensitive."

"They feel better when you touch them." Castiel says. "It feels soothing."

Dean isn't sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased by the comment. "Okay…" Dean responds dumbly and he curses at himself for sounding so lame.

Their eyes lock as they often do but this time Dean is much closer to Castiel. He basks in the blue of the Angel's eyes, remembering the beautiful sky outside of Hell. He's so distracted by the thought he barely reacts in time to Castiel leaning in for another kiss. Dean shoves his hand in his face and forces him away.

"Damn it, Cas! What did I say!?" Dean snaps.

"I am sorry." Castiel says though Dean is getting the sneaking suspicion that he isn't really. "I am very fond of you."

"I know. You tell me, like, every day." Dean says and rolls his eyes as he releases the other's face. "Take off your shirt."

Castiel obeys immediately and the speed at which he operates almost makes Dean blush. He wonders if Castiel would be as eager to comply if they were— _no_. Dean shakes his head and focuses. Castiel holds both extremities of his dress shirt open and displays his chest. Dean's eyes wander for a bit, looking over the well-toned torso to fuel his extremely secret fantasies before looking at the dark bruise over Castiel's ribs. It's smaller than it once was roughly a week ago but still seems too unhealed to risk traveling through Hell. Dean's main worry is that daemons will exploit the weak spot.

He ghosts his touch over the wound and watches Castiel's face for a reaction. He can tell Castiel is forcing his neutral expression when he presses on the center of the bruise just a tad. "Still no good for today." Dean concludes.

"It does not hurt—"

"Don't lie to me." Dean interrupts and Castiel lowers his head like a scolded puppy. It's kind of adora— _no_.

"We cannot stay here forever, Dean." Castiel says, "We need to get you out of here."

"If you're going to repeat that whole bull crap about how you don't matter, shut up." Dean says immediately and seats himself next to Castiel, "I'm not leaving you behind and I'm not going to force you in a situation where you have to sacrifice yourself for me. We're getting out of this together."

"Understood but we must hurry, Dean." Castiel insists, "We cannot wait until my vessel recovers completely before resuming our escape. If I make it out of this realm, I will be able to heal myself instantly."

" _When_." Dean corrects and frowns at Castiel.

"My apologies." He says.

There's another pause when Castiel decides to speak on his own. Dean should know by now that whenever the Angel begins a conversation it will inevitably go in a strange direction but he is still surprised by what he says.

"Dean," he says, "I do not understand why you are flustered by kisses and comments but remain unfazed when demanding I reveal my chest to you. Is it—"

"Cas!" Dean interrupts sharply, "Please, shut up."

* * *

They sit in silence for long hours. Dean occasionally stands and struts around the room. He leaves a couple of times to simply walk around the rest of the building but always returns shortly. Castiel does not make even the faintest of peeps. He has taken Dean's request to heart and he's beginning to be bothered by it. It's not like they have anything to do and if Dean suffers through the silence any longer he's going to go insane.

So he sits across from Castiel, legs crossed and stares at him pensively. The Angel returns the look, unbothered, as Dean struggles to think of a conversation starter. Dean typically finds a question about Angels to ask but he thinks he's asked all of the pertinent ones when his mind wanders and a question surfaces to mind.

"How do Angels have sex?" Dean asks bluntly.

"Why do you suddenly ask?" Castiel asks, tilting his head to the side curiously.

"Just 'cause…" Dean shrugs and feels himself blushing. His question could easily be interpreted as a subtle invite to engage in sexual actions but Castiel is too oblivious to pick up on the possibility. For some reason Dean is a bit disappointed by that. "And, I mean, you said you guys were basically genderless so how do genderless things get it on?"

"It is very complicated to explain." Castiel admits and his brow furrows as he tries to think of the right words. "It is very noisy and violent and one should be sure to steer clear at least a mile so as not to get caught up in the crossfire. Some Angels die in the process."

Dean gapes at him. "What the hell…?" he asks incredulously.

"I am jesting, Dean." Castiel says with a clumsy smile.

"You sounded so serious." Dean says, relieved it was a lie.

"I have yet to get the hang of 'joking', don't I?" Castiel asks.

"A bit." Dean agrees with a small smile.

"But why did you ask, Dean?" Castiel asks.

"Why are we changing the subject to me?" Dean returns, "And why don't you want to answer my question?"

"Angels don't have sex so I cannot answer your question." Castiel answers, "And we have been talking about Angels for the past 120 hours. I fail to understand how the intimate activities of my kin will ever be useful to you."

"I didn't mean to offend." Dean mumbles, "Sorry I asked."

"You misunderstand." Castiel insists and inches closer, "I simply wish to understand you. I may have spent countless centuries amongst humans but I have yet to grasp the fundamental base of the thinking process."

"It works with emotions and morals." Dean explains, "No one has the same thought process because no one agrees simultaneously on everything."

"I see." Castiel nods, "I have yet to grasp emotions. I fear it will take me much longer to understand the thought process."

"You sound like a robot." Dean laughs, "It's really simple and the face basically gives it away." He points at his face and smiles comically widely, "When someone smiles like this they're happy."

"I'm not that idiotic, Dean." Castiel states. He seems a bit offended but Dean laughs it off.

"What's this one, then?" He asks and pouts.

"S…Sadness." Castiel says though he sounds unsure.

"Right." Dean says and Castiel smiles, "But you hesitated."

"I still got it right." Castiel mumbles.

"Now what about this one?" Dean continues and opens his eyes wide and straightens his mouth for as long as he can before chuckling.

"Fear." Castiel guesses immediately.

"I was going for surprise but it's close enough." Dean smirks.

"Love." Castiel says determinedly.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Your expression." Castiel says, "It is love."

"I…I wasn't doing one…" Dean says slowly. He can feel his cheeks burning up.

"Liar." Castiel calls out, "I have seen many lovers exchange the expression you are – or rather were wearing. It is love."

Dean can't see his face but knows he's blushing furiously. Castiel still hasn't grasped the concept of blushing and so looks visibly confused by the new colour of Dean's face.

"Dean?" Castiel asks.

"I-I'm not in love!" Dean blurts out.

"You look like you are." Castiel states. "With who?"

"I just told you I'm not!" Dean insists.

"I do not believe you." Castiel declares.

"Why do you care?" Dean growls in embarrassment and looks to his left so as to avoid the other's face.

"Because I am very fond of you." Castiel states.

"What does that mean?" Dean mumbles.

"I do not exactly know…" Castiel admits, "But the thought of you loving someone…does something to me."

"What?" Dean asks, looking at the Angel in confusion.

"When I think of you," Castiel explains and rests a hand on his belly, "I feel warm here. I was explained by a brother that that means fondness. However, it feels strange and uncomfortable when I think of you loving someone."

Dean can't believe what Castiel is telling him. He has never met someone oblivious to the point of confessing his love without noticing it. Dean doesn't know how he feels about the confession. A part of him is very flattered and attracted to Castiel. In the end he supposes that everything makes sense now. The reason Castiel kept kissing him wasn't because he was fond of Dean but rather because he was in love with Dean.

"That's…that's not fondness." Dean stutters quietly. He wishes he were as smooth with Castiel as he is with every woman he's ever slept with.

"I know, Dean." Castiel says and frowns, "I do not know what they call it but it doesn't feel good—"

"I don't mean the bad feeling you have." Dean specifies. "The thing you think is fondness isn't fondness."

Castiel looks up and his gaze seems to bore into Dean's soul. It's like he's looking through Dean for the answer. His face then lightens up in surprise. "Love." He answers.

Dean nods and bites his lip before looking away. Everything just got really awkward really fast.

"I love you, Dean." Castiel says simply and Dean jolts violently upon hearing the words.

"Don't say it so calmly!" Dean hisses and shifts nervously. He feels butterflies churning in his stomach and for the first time in a long time, he doesn't know how to react.

"Why not?" Castiel asks.

"Because people are never calm about these things!" Dean snaps. His heart is thudding against his chest so violently, it's distracting his train of thought.

"I am not people." Castiel remarks and Dean reckons he makes a good point but isn't going to admit to it right now. "Should we go into a forest?" Castiel asks.

Dean gives him a perplexed and partially irritated look. Honestly, Angels seem to have a more complicated reasoning than humans do. "What are you talking about?"

"The people in the park." Castiel says and redirects Dean to an awkward conversation that occurred a few 'days' ago. "They are in love, are they not?"

"No." Dean answers, "I told you she was a prostitute, remember? The guy you saw her leave with bought her for a couple of hours."

"To pretend they were in love?" Castiel asks.

"No." Dean says and furrows his brow in frustration, "To exchange sexual favour."

"I will never understand the emphasis you humans put on your genitals." Castiel sighs in disappointment.

If anything, Dean believes he's the one who should be disappointed.

"Can I kiss you?" Castiel asks.

"Why?" Dean returns. Everything is too sudden and overwhelming and Dean doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how he feels about Castiel's confession nor about the proposition he so recently made. He doesn't know what he wants or if he wants anything. He simply doesn't know.

"Because that is what lovers do." Castiel responds.

"We're not lovers." Dean says.

"Do you want to be?" Castiel asks.

"Stop being so blunt, Cas!" Dean snaps. He doesn't know what to do.

"I am sorry, Dean." Castiel apologizes.

"You can't just dump all of this on me, Cas!" Dean sighs frustrated, "I'm not even comfortable with the fact that I like _men_ as much as women and then you go sprouting this on me!"

"I thought we established homosexuality and bisexuality is not wrong." Castiel says, perplexed by Dean's reaction.

"We did but this is different! This is _me_ coming to terms with _me_!" Dean states.

"Maybe I can help." Castiel suggests.

"How!?" Dean shoots back a bit too aggressively.

Castiel, however, is unbothered by the aggressive tone. In a short second, he's pressing his lips against Dean's in a kiss. Dean pulls back almost immediately, flustered and agitated.

"How did that feel?" Castiel asks.

"W-wh-what!?" Dean stutters.

"How did that feel?" Castiel repeats, "My theory is that you are uncomfortable because you have yet to experience and indulge in what you are. Perhaps if you tried it, you would come to accept yourself."

Dean is about to say that Castiel's theory is stupid when he reckons it's pretty logical and smart. However Dean would argue that he _has_ taken part of some of his bisexual behaviour with Alastair. But having sex with the daemon was just out of necessity whereas it could potentially be more meaningful with Castiel. He hesitates with the option. He's fairly certain the Angel hasn't noticed he just offered to have sex but Dean decides to shove that detail away. If at any point Castiel refuses to go any further, he will simply stop.

"Okay…" Dean agrees. A part of him is already regretting his choice. "I guess I'll guide you through it…"

"Alright." Castiel nods and then he waits.

And waits.

Dean can't bring himself to say anything else. He tries to think of an action or anything he can have the Angel do but he simply can't. A part of him feels like he's about to soil something sacred and pure. He fidgets nervously and wonders if Castiel is getting regardless of the constant blank expression he wears.

"Dean." Castiel finally says and a soft smile grazes his lips, "We do not have to do it. It was simply a suggestion."

"No, I-I want to!" Dean says hurriedly and his own response surprises him. He is sure he is confused on what he wants but his subconscious seems to have already made up its mind.

And Dean decides then to stop thinking too much about what he is and wants to do. He decides to simply give in and do what he thinks feels right.

Without thinking he leans in and locks lips with Castiel. For a moment he thinks he can feel the Angel smile back as his hands make their way to his dark locks. In any case, Dean wastes no time in deepening the kiss, deciding to approach this the way he does with women, and Castiel seems to pick up relatively fast. He's returning the pleasurable gestures quickly and expertly – almost mimicking what Dean has done. And soon enough he's taking control over the kiss and Dean lets him. He fancies submission in these situations – at least, he thinks he does. Castiel's tongue invades his mouth and Dean moans in surprise at the skill he displays. The friction of their tongues rubbing together almost desperately is pleasurable and Dean feels strangely more aroused and excited than he ever has. Castiel then nibbles teasingly at Dean's lower lip and the latter is surprised by the reaction his body emits. He wants more. So much more. But he's getting out of breath.

Finally, he breaks the kiss. It takes him a moment to speak for Dean is breathless. "Wow…" he says followed by a breathy laugh.

"What next?" Castiel asks.

Rather than answer, Dean simply curls his fingers around the collar of Castiel's shirt and pulls him over as he lays down on the ground. The floor is hard and very uncomfortable but it's not very different from the surface on which he and Alastair fucked multiple times. Castiel stares at him from above with dilated pupils – Dean can barely see the beautiful blue that always entrances him but that doesn't matter. His hands move to the back of the Angel's neck and pulls him closer for another kiss.

This one is as slow as the previous one. Their lips move together sweetly though Castiel is the one to take the initiative to deepen it. But there's no desperation just love. Dean shivers at the thought and feels his heart pound against his chest. He thinks, for a brief moment, that he might actually be falling in love with Castiel. He casts the thought aside in place for pleasure and focusing on the burning touch of Castiel's hands. Dean guides them to his body and slips them beneath his shirt to begin with. The Angel understands what Dean is going for and begins to explore his well-toned chest. His fingers trace every line and curve gently and press down a bit harder when gliding above scars. Dean leans into his hand and releases a breathy gasp as the fingers graze his nipples. He wasn't aware it was his erogenous zone.

Castiel smiles which sends sparks flying for Dean. The smile Castiel wears seems much different than the other ones he has offered before. This one seems filled with emotion – something the Angel generally lacks. He's glad it isn't the case right now.

They resume their kiss all the while Castiel teases at Dean's nipple. Dean's groans are muffled by Castiel's mouth but he can tell the Angel enjoys the sounds he makes. Castiel then shifts his position, scooting his legs closer which consequently results in their clothed groins briefly rubbing together. Dean's reaction is far more vocal than Castiel though the kiss is still broken and they pause for a minute. The next thing either of them know, the sweetness of their previous actions have been thrown aside and they go at each other with a ravenous passion. Dean's arms are wrapped tightly around Castiel's neck and their chests are pressed together. Castiel's hand rests on Dean's waist, holding it firmly whereas the other is pressed to the ground to keep him up as he grinds against the other greedily.

Dean moans eagerly at the pleasurable friction created by Castiel's hips. His pants, however, are becoming far too tight far too quickly and the strangling pressure applied to his erection is becoming insufferable. He ends up breaking the kiss and quickly begins to unbutton his pants. Castiel follows in suit, kissing Dean every now and again, as they free themselves of the obstructive piece of clothing.

"Dean…" Castiel whispers against the other's lips.

The word soon lost itself amidst their overwhelming lust. Dean captured Castiel's lips in another kiss while the other continued to grind down on Dean. The pleasure is much more intense now that flesh meets flesh but it isn't enough. Dean wants more and it's a fair bet to assume Castiel does as well.

"Cas…" he manages to breathe through moans. Castiel locks their gazes together, eyes glazed with lust. "Need more..."

"What…should I do?" He asks, eyes slowly moving to Dean's darkened lips.

Dean takes one of Castiel's hands and brings three fingers to his lips. The Angel's breath hitches as he watches Dean kiss the tips and slowly insert them in his mouth. His tongue glides over the digits expertly, coating them in as much saliva as he can. When he pulls out the fingers, a thin line still links them together. Castiel stares at them thoughtlessly until Dean redirects them to his ass.

"You got to stretch me before we can get down to the steamy part." Dean explains with a breathy grin. "It'll hurt me otherwise."

"I do not understand, this is your spirit not your body." Castiel says but nonetheless presses his fingers to his hole.

Dean manages retains a gasp at the sensation, "This is Hell." Dean reminds him, "If a daemon were to rape another daemon or even a tormented soul, the most physically lasting part of the experience is the pain of not having been prepped. That's what Alastair told me before he—"

"Hush." Castiel interrupts and pushes in his first finger. Dean groans lowly at the feeling but eases into its familiarity. "Let us not talk about that abomination."

Castiel begins to thrust his fingers in and out of Dean at a gentle pace. He's very attentive to the other's state of being and makes sure not to hurt him now that he's aware of the afore information. Then he slips in a second digit and slows his pace upon noticing a slight discomfort within Dean. He later concludes the lack of lubricant has something to do with it and spits on his fingers. The difference is visible and Dean resumes moaning beautifully. Castiel is so entranced by the sight of him he barely notices when he adds the third and final finger. His heart beats in his chest in a different way than it usually does. He doesn't quite understand it but his mind seems to be identifying it as love.

He supposes that love is relatively impossible for an Angel such as himself but, if he could love anyone, it would be Dean, the Righteous Man.

"Cas…" Dean pleads again, "I-I can't anymore…"

"What…?" He asks, his voice strangely hoarse with need.

"Put it in…" Dean says and he feels a blush taking over his face. Though he reckons he's fond of submission, that might have been a _tad_ too submissive for his tastes.

Castiel nods, pulling his fingers out to which Dean whines. The sound surprises the both of them but neither dwell on it. Castiel takes the initiative of adding spit to his erected cock before aligning it accordingly and pushing in all the while maintaining eye contact with Dean. The expression he makes upon being penetrated is delicious. His pupils dilated all the more and his mouth slowly opened to release a soft gasp followed by a grown.

Though Dean was stretched it's still a tight fit. When Castiel manages to bottom out, he has to stay still for a moment to allow Dean to adjust. Until then, Castiel contents himself with kissing him as his dark wings shield them in this intimate and private moment. And when they're completely covered, Dean decides that the change in colour of Castiel's wings isn't so bad. His black feathers are still gorgeous and they actually seem to sparkle – a bit like a clear starry sky.

Finally Dean adjusts himself well enough to want Castiel to start. He wiggles his hips and pushes back against his dick as much as he can. Castiel gets the hint fairly quickly and slowly pulls out and pushes back in. They both let out a groan when he sheathes himself in a second time and the Angel continues at such a pace to avoid hurting Dean. However, as their actions progress, they lose themselves in each other. Castiel's thrusts are harsher and faster and Dean meets them whenever he can. His fingers are entangled within the Angel's dark locks as they lock lips in a bruising kiss.

Dean can't help the moans spilling out of his lips into the kiss. He's partially embarrassed by it but the mind boggling ecstasy coursing through his body overwhelms any potential shame and he gives into his body's primal urge. And before long the pace Castiel has set is becoming erratic and needy and Dean knows the Angel's approaching his limit. He's not too far behind either.

Castiel's hands then move to Dean's shoulders and grip him tightly as he promptly plows in. He hits his prostate dead on and the kiss is broken when Dean begins to cry out in pleasure. His mind is blank and all that he seems to know is Castiel's touch and pure bliss. Dean's pleasure intensifies when he begins to stroke his neglected erection in time with Castiel's thrusts. He throws his head back and doesn't try to stop the sounds that pass through his abused lips.

"Cas…" he begins to chant as he feels himself reach his limit.

Castiel calls out Dean's name in return and suddenly he grips Dean's shoulders tight and comes deep and hard inside of him. Dean feel a searing pain where Castiel grips him but it contributes to the pleasure he feels and he spills his load as well with one last lustful cry. Some of it ends up on the shirts both Castiel and Dean have neglected to remove but neither of them care. They remain in their given position for some time, trying to catch their breaths.

Castiel then pulls out and with a snap of his fingers, the mess of cum is gone. He leans against a wall and Dean joins him. They pull their pants back on and lean on one another. As they relax in the afterglow of the sex they had, Dean accepts what he is. Everything that he and Castiel discussed about homosexuality and bisexuality finally sinks in and his mind and soul and he's okay. He's happy.

"Thank you…" Dean mumbles and he feels himself dozing off.

"I love you." Castiel says and this times it sounds much different than all the other times. This time it sounds more meaningful.

Dean doesn't respond, however. Instead he's reminded of the dull ache he felt just as he came and lifts the short sleeve of his tee-shirt only to find a red mark in the shape of a hand. He jolts and yelps upon seeing it. He wasn't expecting the mark that had seemingly be seared into him.

"W-what the hell!?" he stutters in shock. Dean quickly checks his other shoulder and, sure enough, there's another mark.

Castiel looks over and then looks away with a flustered expression.

"What!?" Dean asks when he doesn't say anything, "What is it?"

"I am sorry, Dean." Castiel says, his cheeks tainted with a light pink.

"What did you do?" Dean insists worriedly.

"The…it was…" Castiel tries and it's the first time Dean sees him struggle with words. "It was very intense…and my grace…was accidentally…etched into your skin…"

"What does that mean?" Dean asks and looks at the mark again. He pokes at it and winces in pain. "Did you mark me or something?"

"Y…yes…" Castiel says quietly as though he's being scolded.

Dean frowns and glances at the mark one last time before dropping his short sleeve over it. There's nothing he can do about it now. And, in any case, it's etched in his soul not his actual body. It's essentially the equivalent of wearing a hickey for a couple of days before having it fade along with the memory of that glorious night. But Dean is still a little miffed.

"Well I'm kind of still a bit pissed about it…" Dean admits. "But there's nothing we can do about it now…" he then snorts and jokes: "Was I your first or something?"

"Yes." Castiel responds blatantly.

Dean jolts at the confession, his heart racing. "Really?" He asks incredulously.

"Yes…" Castiel repeats, slower this time, "Why is that so incredible?"

"How long have you been alive, man?" Dean asks, disbelief growing by the second.

"Since the beginning of your time and a bit more." Castiel recalls approximately. "Why?"

"So you're telling _me_ that you've never been laid for, like, a millennia?" Dean asks because a part of him is unable to understand that.

"More than that and yes." Castiel confirms.

"Wow." Dean whistles and drops his head against the Angel's shoulder as he stares at the opposite wall in disbelief. "I guess this was very good for you then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **I kept telling myself: "I'M NOT ENDING THIS FUCKING CHAPTER UNTIL DEAN GETS IT UP THE BUTT LIKE THOSE GREEK BOYS FrOM WAY BACK WHEN!"**
> 
> **So voilà! :D  
> **
> 
> **I hope it was as good as the other chapters and worth the wait.**
> 
> **I don't know how fast or often I'll be able to upload future chapters because I was so freakin' exhausted during the last two days and I work at a weird time for an undisclosed amount of hours on the 31st and the 1st and since I don't typically get up early there's no way to know when I'll get a chance to write.**
> 
> **In any case, I spent most of my time writing this chapter listening to Love Love Love by Of Monsters and Men and HOLY SHIT THE DESTIEL FEELS ARE REAL! Like I implore you to at least look up the lyrics if not listen to the song because OMFG!**
> 
> **4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter.**


	10. Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Short chapter, I know, but I feel like it's balanced out by the length of the last chapter...**
> 
> **In any case, my schedule changed so now I have time to write but I'm hitting a bit of a writer's block (which, now that I think about it, is another good reason as to why this chapter is short lol)**
> 
> **ONE MORE THING THAT I FORGOT TO MENTION LAST CHAPTER!:**
> 
> **If you don't remember, actually go back and watch the scene where Anna and Dean do the frickitty frack and NOTICE how her HANDS fit the MARK PERFECTLY as they FUCK! So if you over think this with a Destiel perspective, it suggests that Dean and Castiel did the do in the pit (and when you think about it, the position it suggests in which Castiel lifts Dean from Hell is SUPER inconvenient so...yeah...)**
> 
> **Ironically, I have a lot of free time on my hands to think (because even if I work like a maniac, I don't need to use my brain to accomplish my task so yeah)**
> 
> **Anyways, ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

Castiel and Dean rest for another day. The Angel is hardly in any better of a condition when Dean makes the call but they've been in place for too long. As it is, the daemons probably knew they hadn't yet left Hell and so, what with being unable to find them, were likely camping the Gate. With that possibility in mind, Dean still feels reluctant to leave. If they really have to fight their way through once they reach the Gate, Castiel won't be of much help or as strong as he could have been if they waited some more. But the Angel has lost complete patience and simply wants to leave.

The second they exit the building that has been travelling through the landscapes due to the sigils covering each wall, it collapses. They watch the ruins for an instant as it sinks in that there's no going back now. They have to keep marching forward and, if they come across any daemons, they _will_ have to fight. They have nowhere to hide anymore.

They are now in a desert amidst dunes of black ashes. The path they have to follow is barely visible but Castiel seems to have no trouble perceiving it. And so Dean walks by him closely. They're relatively silent, neither have much to say. Dean is promptly lost in his mind. He questions the sex he had with Castiel and the mark left on his shoulders. Has the Angel claimed him as his or is the print on his shoulders truly an accident? Does Castiel expect anything more of him? Does he want to be lovers like he had initially asked?

Castiel, however, makes no move to talk about it. Dean doesn't want to pry and so remains quiet but the curiosity and unease probe at him. He's still not sure of what he wants from the Angel. He doesn't know if, for him, everything ended with the sex or not. He doesn't even know if he's ready to start a relationship with a man when he can barely hold one together with a woman. Dean reckons he's clearly over thinking it but things like sex are never simple when love is involved.

"Stay close, Dean." Castiel says.

Dean notices that, amidst his thinking, he has fallen behind quite a few paces. Castiel stands ahead and waits for him. Dean shakes his head and hurries by his side again. They resume their walk through the eerie black dunes when Castiel's fingers find their way intertwined with Dean's. Dean would have gasped but the familiar and intense sensation of peace and tranquility wash over him and keep him silent. He basks in it, soaks it in, until he jerks his hand away. Castiel seems surprised.

"What is it, Dean?" He asks.

Dean is silent for a moment. He stares at his hand and then at Castiel. He doesn't remember feeling the Angel's purity the day before and doesn't understand why it has changed now. In any case, the thing that presses at his mind most of all isn't that.

"Why did you hold my hand?" Dean asks.

Castiel tilts his head as he always does when he's confused. "I simply returned the gesture." He says, "You instigated it, Dean."

Dean feels his face take on a violent shade of red. "I-I didn't!" He stutters.

"You did." Castiel says and he doesn't understand why Dean is suddenly very flustered. "What is wrong, Dean?"

"What do you want from me, Cas!?" Dean blurts out in frustration. He doesn't mean to sound angry or irritated but he does.

"I want to free you from perdition." Castiel responds quietly.

"That's not what I mean!" Dean says and takes a deep breath to calm down. He doesn't know why he's so riled up. "I mean, what do you want from _me_?" And he gestures his shoulders.

Castiel's eyes light up in comprehension. "I do not desire anything from you." He says shortly.

Dean isn't sure why the answer bothers him. "What does the mark mean?" He asks, "Why did you put it on me?"

Castiel blushes lightly and begins to fidget. "It was an accident, Dean. I am sorry it bothers you so much."

"Just answer my question, Cas." Dean says in exasperation.

"If you are afraid that that means I claimed you as one of my own, rest easy." Castiel says, "The mark is simply a sign of our profound bond."

"Profound bond?" Dean repeats.

"Sex is more meaningful than most of you humans understand." Castiel says, "Some of you just see it as a way to pleasure yourselves whereas just a small portion understand just how intimate and special the act is. The profound bond we share was consummated the day before. Only intercourse can birth another living creature."

Dean pauses. "Wait." He says and he feels his face whiten. "Does…are you saying I'm pregnant?"

"Why would you assume that?" Castiel asks and he's visibly confused by Dean's thought process. "You are male and I am in the vessel of another male. It is biologically impossible."

"Well _I_ don't know!" Dean snaps, visibly embarrassed, "You mentioned the childbirth thing!"

"Because it is true." Castiel replies slowly.

"If it doesn't apply to us what was the point in saying it!?" Dean snaps. He wants to crawl into a hole and hide.

"Because…" Castiel repeats slowly, "It is true…"

"Ah! Just shut up!" Dean grumbles and walks ahead, his head lowered in shame.

Castiel follows him as he tries to make sense out of Dean. He eventually gives up. Dean is an enigma akin to what male humans tend to state about their females.

"You do not have to worry, Dean." Castiel says, "You can continue to engage in coitus with anyone you desire. I will not stop you."

"Really?" Dean asks and peaks over his shoulder to see the Angel treading behind, "I thought you said you loved me and was bothered by thinking of me with someone else..."

"Yes, it is true." Castiel confirms, "But you do not love me and I will not stop you from being happy. My own wills and desires are inferior to the value I put on your joy."

"What? How do you know I don't love you?" Dean asks.

"I am not an idiot, Dean." Castiel says with a soft but slightly melancholic smile, "I may not grasp human nature, emotions or thoughts very efficiently but I understand that you do not love me."

"That's not true!" And Dean isn't sure why he made such a statement.

"I do not mean to offend when I say this," Castiel says, "But you are incapable of loving, Dean."

"You better explain yourself because I'm feeling offended really fast." Dean grumbles angrily.

"I speak on a long term basis." Castiel explains, "You have only been in one long term relationship with a woman named Cassie Robinson. You, however, found love in another woman, Lisa Braeden, two years later and both of them had one thing in common. They offered you a life of peace away from the supernatural. They are beautiful and perfect and come with the thing you desire most: normalcy. And that is something I cannot give you."

Dean frowns and turns away. Castiel speaks the truth but he won't admit it. They continue to walk through the ashy desert for some time before the landscape shifts again. The terrain is similar to the canyon one they had marched through some time ago but the rocks bordering the path are more spaced out and not as high. They decide to rest beneath the shade of one of the pillars. Dean doesn't lean against Castiel like he normally does out of spite.

He doesn't understand why he's so bothered by what Castiel has said.

"We are nearing the Gate…" Castiel mutters quietly.

Dean looks up at the chained sky and, sure enough, the light is much closer than it was when they first began their march. He closes his eyes and wonders if they'll truly be able to escape Hell and what kind of assault was waiting for them at the end of the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **The drama is real!**
> 
> **Can I just say that I was uber disappointed when Lisa and Ben were booted out of the series in like season 6 or 7? D: Like I loved the family thing Dean had going on there and Lisa was so great and I miss her so much DX**
> 
> **Rather than have Dean hook up with this 'Ann Marie' in season 10 they should bring back Lisa! (because I know and have come to terms with that Castiel will not end up with Dean so might as well wish for one of my once cannon ships to come back ammirite?)**
> 
> **Anywhore, this story is actually coming to an end pretty soon. I'm guestimating 3 to 5 chapters (probably 3 tho) including the epilogue (because all of my stories must have an epilogue)**
> 
> **So hope you enjoyed the chapter even tho it was pretty darn short!**
> 
> **4 reviews are required to unlock the next chapter**


	11. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Short chapter because adding the next part seemed a bit too much or whatever (I don't make sense but that's life)**
> 
> **In any case, next chapter is the last chapter OF THE STORY and after that it's the epilogue (which, I suppose, is the REAL last chapter)**
> 
> **ENJOY**
> 
> * * *

Eventually Castiel and Dean reach a point at which the landscape stops shifting. That's when both of them know they are very close to the Gates. The path slowly rises upwards and twists around oddly shaped mountains and will eventually give out on the light that is much closer than Dean remembered it to be before. His heart beats heavily at the thought of soon being free from Hell. There is nonetheless a certain level of dread. During the days they spent walking away from their hiding spot and towards destination, they encountered no daemons. They are probably all waiting to ambush them just before leaving and so they have to be extra cautious.

Dean is so captivated by his surroundings and lost in his thoughts that he barely notices when Castiel veers off course. He simply walks off the path and Dean follows him with a bit of confusion. He remembers all too well that Castiel doesn't know the way out of Hell on his own and so he wonders what the Angel is up to. He considers asking him but seeing as the daemons are probably all bunched up and waiting near the Gate, he doesn't want to risk giving away their position. And yet as Castiel continues to venture further away from the path, climb up jagged rocks and sidle his way through narrow spaces without a word or gesture of explanation, Dean gradually gets more confused.

"Cas—!" He whispers when he catches up to the Angel.

Castiel doesn't answer and gestures him to keep quiet. Dean is miffed by the command and but complies nonetheless. He just wishes the Angel would tell or explain things to him rather than expect to understand everything.

Finally they reach a cavern and just when Dean thinks they'll stop to rest there, Castiel climbs over it. He sighs deeply but follows his saviour only to bump into soon after commencing his climbing. He's about to snap at Castiel but decides to remain quiet instead. Castiel's keeping quiet and peaking over the edge of the red rock. Dean silently climbs next to him and looks over as well. There are daemons bordering the path they had left a while ago. Some were sitting on the dirt whereas some others paced around impatiently. Dean quickly counted a dozen of them before being pulled down.

The Angel then gestures him to the cave in which they find refuge. Castiel is quiet for a moment, wanting to be extra cautious what with being so close to daemons. When he judges that their presence has gone unnoticed, he releases a sigh and that's when Dean knows he's allowed to speak.

"How did you know where to go?" He asks, "I thought you said you only knew to follow the path and nothing else."

"It is true." Castiel confirms. "However, I can hear my brothers and sisters again. It started a while back but it was more of an undecipherable whisper. Now I understand."

"What about that thing you made me listen to before?" Dean asks remembering the first time he listened to angels talking – or singing, he still wasn't sure what to call it.

"It was a memory, Dean." Castiel reassures. "It was the last thing my brothers and sisters told us before our descent into Hell."

"What are they saying now?" Dean asks.

"They're telling that they're waiting." Castiel says and looks up at the cave's ceiling as though he can see the other Angels. "They're telling me that you must be saved at all costs."

Dean frowns at that and mumbles: "Except at the cost of your life."

"Pardon?" Castiel asks, snapped out of his thoughts.

"Remember what I told you?" Dean says more than asks, "I'm not leaving here without you. We're both getting out, together. I'm not leaving this place alone."

Castiel seems to want to protest but refrains from doing so. Instead he shifts his gaze to the ground and says nothing. Dean is partially worried about the silence but decides not to indulge. Instead his mind wanders off and he wonders why Castiel is seated on the opposite side of the cave. He wonders why he doesn't move over and offer himself as a pillow like he normally does. But most of all, Dean wonders why Castiel isn't telling him that he loves him like he always does.

"How are your wings?" Dean asks, shaking the thoughts away. There's no way he's _actually_ bothered by that.

Castiel glances back at his blackened wing and flexes them briefly. "They are well, I suppose." He says.

"Do they still hurt?" Dean continues.

"Atrociously." Castiel confirms. "However, I believe I will be able to use them efficiently to fly us out of Hell when we are close enough to the Gates."

"That's good." Dean huffs and folds his arm over his chests. He's getting ready to sleep for a couple of hours and even though he'd much prefer using Castiel as his pillow, he'll make do with the stone wall. There's no way he's going to take the initiative and ask. No. It was Castiel's job to offer and it wasn't like he _needed_ it anyway.

Castiel seems to notice and for a moment Dean thinks he'll offer himself like he always does, but the Angel shuts his mouth and looks away regretfully. Dean can see the sadness and shame in Castiel's eyes as clear as day and doesn't understand why he's stopping himself.

"What's up?" Dean finally asks.

"The…cave…" Castiel responds slowly, confused by Dean's question.

"No, I mean what's up with you?" Dean says.

"I do not understand." Castiel states.

Dean sighs with irritation. "Why are you acting differently?" Dean asks.

"Would you care to define just how differently I'm acting?" Castiel asks in return. And though he sounds perfectly robotic, Dean still detects nervousness in his tone which only perplexes him further.

"You…" Dean starts but the look in Castiel's eyes seem to tell him to drop the matter immediately. A part of him wants to throw the silent plea in his face and speak his mind. He wants to talk to Castiel about how he's suddenly very distant and how he's still bothered by the fact the Angel told him he was incapable of loving on a long term basis because, yes, he will admit it, he's _very_ bothered by it. Dean just wants to scream at Castiel. He wants to pour out everything he's kept bottled up inside since their last actual conversation. He wants to punch Castiel just about as much as he wants to kiss him but he doesn't do either. Dean does nothing. He does nothing because the other and more overwhelming part of him decides to just give Castiel what he wants out of spite. Castiel doesn't want to talk with him? Fine. Castiel doesn't want to try to fix things? Okay. Castiel wants to suddenly act like a stranger? Whatever. It would be a lie to say that Dean didn't care anymore but the feeling he feels is very close to apathy and indifference. "Never mind. Just…forget about it."

The hurt in Castiel's eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Dean but he still doesn't acknowledge it. He's very angry and upset and if he closes his eyes now, it's too avoid at looking at the very person – thing that has managed to turn his life upside down in Hell. And the more Dean thinks about it, the angrier he gets. Castiel, an Angel, waltzes into Hell to save him when he didn't asked to be. They walk through Hell together and the Angel somehow gets Dean to cope and accept parts of himself he never would have otherwise. He's able to come to terms with the terrible things he has done as well as with the controversial opinion he had of his own sexuality. Castiel is able to do all of that and get Dean to open himself up so intimately and then he just _pushes him away_.

This is why he has trust issues, Dean thinks.

And so Dean begrudgingly falls asleep against the uncomfortable and cold rock wall. It's his last rest in Hell and he knows it. When he wakes up, he and Castiel will march their way through the daemons guarding the Gates and walk out of Hell. Then they'll never see each other ever again. And though Dean finds comfort and pleasure in that in his peeved state, there's a dark feeling of sadness at the thought embedded deep in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> **4 reviews/comments are required to unlock the next chapter**


	12. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next up is the epilogue and then we're 100% done**
> 
> **I'm going to take this time to thank you all for having come on this adventure with me. This story was fun to write and I enjoyed discussing some things like headcannons with you all**
> 
> **You were great and I hope we meet again on a different adventure!**
> 
> **NOW ENJOY!**
> 
> * * *

When four hours pass, Dean wakes instantly. Castiel is partially started by the abruptness of it but Dean pays no heed. He's not quite sure why but he feels rejuvenated and powerful. He feels more than ready to kick some daemon ass.

"Alright, let's do this." He says as he jumps to his feet.

Castiel observes him for an instant before slowly raising himself and unsheathing his blade with a short nod. "You stay here." He tells Dean, "I will return for you when the—"

"No." Dean interrupts sharply. "I want to fight too."

"I…" Castiel pauses and frowns slightly, "You cannot, Dean. You are unarmed and too important—"

"So the Angels are waiting at the Gate, right?" Dean interrupts again, he's not sure where this fire's coming from but he's enjoying it.

"Yes." Castiel answers.

"Then have them thrown me one." Dean says as though it were a simple feat.

"I cannot." Castiel says.

"Why not?" Dean fires back.

"Doing so would alert the nearby daemons to our position." Castiel states.

"So would screaming." Dean states and clears his throat, "And, honestly, I feel the need to release a bit of frustration and anger so—"

" _Enough_!" Castiel says harshly.

"What?" Dean replies shortly.

"Why are you acting like this?" Castiel nearly hisses, "Do you want to stay in Hell?"

Dean frowns and takes a step forward, "No, actually, thanks for asking." he says and he stops inches away from Castiel's face, "Which is why I want a weapon to fight with. I'm not handicapped Castiel, I can fight and I'm so much better at it than you might think."

Castiel flinches at that though a part of Dean thinks it's because he refrained from using the recently attributed nickname. In any case, he can't bring himself to care. He figures that Castiel pushed them back to a first name basis again so if anyone's to blame then it's the Angel.

Castiel drops his gaze for a moment but soon meets it again. "Alright." He says, "I'll get them to drop an Angel blade."

"Angel blade?" Dean repeats. "Is that what those are called?"

"Yes." Castiel says, "However, you must follow my lead and do everything I say. Understood? That also includes leaving me behind if need be."

"Fine." Dean says bitterly. And though he has agreed to the terms and conditions, he still knows that he won't leave the Angel if worse comes to worse, no matter his fate.

Castiel leads the way out of the cave. He takes a few additional steps forward and stops to stare at the light through the chained sky. Though they are apparently very close to the Gates, the light still seems fairly small to Dean. Castiel then closes his eyes and when he opens them, they're glowing bright blue. Dean is fascinated and captivated by the sight of it. He can't help but think Castiel looks beautiful. Finally, he shuts his eyes again and they're back to normal.

"Take a step back." Castiel commands, his gaze still fixated on the sky.

"Why?" Dean asks all the while obeying the order.

And in a second Dean spots a twinkle falling from the sky with the corner of his eye before the object stabs the ground, leaving a crater, the very next instant. He stares at it for a shocked moment and eventually releases his breath which he hadn't realised he had been holding. Dean reaches down and pulls the Angel blade from the ground and twirls it experimentally in his hand. It's perfectly balanced and as light as a feather. When he swings it around, he feels that the motions are even more fluid than with any other blunt weapon he ever used.

He looks at Castiel, "Alright, let's go." He says.

The daemons that had been present the previous four hours are still in place. Aside from their new positions around the path, nothing else has changed and they are still as distracted as ever. Dean gets the idea to attack them from opposing ends simultaneously and though Castiel is iffy with the idea, he ultimately agrees. Castiel, however, refuses to let Dean sneak to the other side and takes on the task himself. He flashes Dean a brief sign when he's finally in position and they count to three as they had previously agreed to.

When they immerge from their positions, the daemons are confused and dealt with surprisingly quickly. Castiel and Dean are perfectly timed and though their fighting styles differ, they blend together perfectly. The fight is done almost as quickly as it started and a bunch of daemon dust litters the path. They take a short moment to catch their breath and exchange gazes. Dean almost wants to smile but remembers that he's still miffed by Castiel's sudden and unexplained change in attitude and so forces it away.

Castiel's stare eventually drops and he seems saddened but Dean refuses to talk about it. The Angel leads the way off the path again. From what he briefly told Dean, the Angels waiting at the Gate can see them and are guiding their path around daemons. It's a very good advantage but Dean feels uncomfortable leaving so many daemons alive as they sneak their way to freedom. When the final battle at the Gates will come, he fears that the ones they spared will join the others in an attempt to keep them from escaping. Dean doesn't mention it though. He figures the Angels have considered the possibility and judged it as improbable or something of the like. In any case, they're waiting on the other side and if they ever need assistance, Dean assumes they will dash down immediately.

Thus they continue walking where the Angels tell them too until they make it to the very end. The speck of light Dean had been seeing suddenly becomes much larger and bright, he almost feels like he's staring at the sun. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust but when he does, his heart sinks a bit. The Gates are located in the center of a crater of jagged rocks on which Castiel and Dean are currently seeking cover. There are so many daemons actually organized around the black gates that are only slightly ajar. What's more is that the daemon closest to the Gates and the one who also looks the most pissed off is Alastair. He's pacing around from one end to another, his arms resting behind his back impatiently.

"Shit…" Dean mumbles, "We're not going to make it through that alone…and look at who narrow our opening is!"

"It is as large as it needs to be." Castiel states before he ducks behind their cover and pulls Dean to the same level, "I need you to listen closely, Dean." He says and Dean begins to worry, "The only reason the Gates are still open is because I am here. The Gates cannot be shut if an Angel is still in Hell, which is why you must leave first."

"No." Dean refuses immediately, "This is just an excuse for you to kamikaze. We're getting out to—"

"Dean!" Castiel hisses and Dean is taken aback, "Understand that we have no choice! If I leave before you, the Gates will close and you will be trapped here."

"And what if you die?" Dean asks, "Won't the Gates still close?"

"Michael will be there to keep them open until you make it out." Castiel tells him and looks back at the Gates, "He is the strongest Angel and he will buy you time—"

"If he's the strongest then why doesn't he just come in to help?" Dean interrupts.

"The opening is too small, he cannot fit." Castiel says, "He is not in a vessel because he does not have one yet. This is why we need you to return."

"I'm not leaving you behind." Dean states adamantly.

"I am not asking you to, Dean." Castiel reassures, "I am asking you to leave first and, if need be, leave me behind." Castiel doesn't allow Dean the time to interrupt him again, "I am the Angel of Thursday, Dean. You are the Righteous Man and the Sword of Michael. I have no role to play during the apocalypse and I am insignificant to the events meant to unfold upon your return to Earth. I am touched by your will to not leave me behind but understand the difference of importance between us. If you do not leave Hell, then all is lost and when Lucifer reawakens, every single human on Earth will die. Do you understand why this is so important now? We need you and so does Humanity. They do not need me."

"I…" Dean starts and he's not quite sure what he's going to say but his heart his throbbing painfully in his chest. Whatever he wants to say, however, won't come out and he lets it slide by dropping his gaze to the red rock beneath their feet.

They share a moment of silence and Dean feels Castiel's gaze burn through his soul. Knowing the Angel could very well die during the next few instances, Dean feels the strong urge to kiss him one last time but the thought repels him. He doesn't want to have to kiss Castiel one last time, he wants to be able to kiss him as much as he wants when he's himself and not a wandering soul in Hell. He wants to be able to actually touch Castiel with his real hands and burn the feeling of the Angel making love to him in his real body. He simply wants Castiel and realizing such a thing has Dean coming to the conclusion as to why he's so upset by the other's sudden change in attitude and distance.

Dean wouldn't go as far as to classify it as love because it was far too soon for such a big word but there was definitely something there he couldn't and didn't want to ignore.

"Look," Castiel says gesturing the army of daemons bellow them, "None of them are particularly paying attention. They are all scattered around and they are talking to each other rather than being on their guards. Alastair is also lost in his thoughts."

"Do you think we could sneak through then?" Dean asks.

"No, there is absolutely no way." Castiel says but he clearly has an alternative idea and flaps his wings experimentally. A couple of feathers fall loose but Castiel seems overall satisfied with the results. "I think I could maybe get us through the Gates and avoid confrontation."

"How?" Dean asks, glancing back at the daemons wearily.

"They are distracted." Castiel says and pulls Dean to his chest, holding him tightly, "If I am fast enough, we can slip through without a problem."

Dean nods and tries to keep his head from falling in the gutter as his hands make their way to the Angel's chest. He takes a deep breath and looks up at Castiel's face. The Angel looks back and his grip tightens on Dean. Dean can feel that there's something he wants to say but refrains from doing so and if the anxiety of the hoard of daemons wasn't overwhelming, he surely would have felt disappointment.

"Hold on tight." Castiel says.

Dean barely has the chance to comply when Castiel's powerful wings propel them over their cover and towards the Gates. His eyes are glowing a familiar blue and Dean also notices that something similar to dust is dragging behind them. He wonders what it is and figures it's probably residue of Castiel's mojo to help them fly faster.

Dean looks up towards the Gates and they're so close when the daemons start realizing that they're making a dash for it. He can hear them start shrieking and screaming as they struggle to make up for their mistake but it seems to be too late. They're inches away and Dean starts to make out blue hued silhouettes on just the other side – Angels. He can hear their voices singing to them when suddenly, Castiel stops.

Castiel stops for a millisecond but it feels like an eternity. He almost doesn't want to believe that there's something tied to his ankle, keeping him from going any further. A chill of terror run up both of their spines as they're propelled back. Disbelief and dread fall upon Dean when seconds later, they're lying on the other side of the crater with a hoard of angry daemons dashing towards them.

"What the hell happened!?" Dean snaps as he jumps to his feet and readies himself.

The answer comes quickly enough when the daemons stop running and make space for Alastair to walk through. He's wearing a smug grin and twirling a black chain in his hand. "Dean, Dean, Dean…" Alastair says lowly, "You're making this harder than it needs to be."

Castiel slowly gets to his feet, spreading his wings wide to shield Dean from Alastair as a protective reflex. He twirls the Angel blade in his hand and growls: "You will not have him!"

"Oh but I already have." Alastair chuckles, "Again and again and again and then some more because he _begged_ for more."

If it wasn't for Castiel's amazing self-control, he would have charged Alastair and fallen into the trap he was trying to set. Dean gave him silent props for that.

"You know," Alastair continues, "I'm surprised you're not dead, Angel-boy. I thought you would die from your wounds seeing as you can't instantly heal here. Though I suppose that might be why it took you two so long to get here." He then tries to peak over Castiel's wing to get a glance of Dean and adds, "Now let's stop this childish game. Come with me now Dean, and I'll consider leaving your boyfriend leave in one piece and make your future tortures a bit less painful."

"No." Castiel answers for him.

When Dean doesn't add anything, Alastair sighs exaggeratedly and shakes his head, "You disappoint me, Dean." He turns to face the hoard of daemons, "Enjoy."

And suddenly the wave of daemons crash down on them eagerly. They're utterly surrounded and Dean can barely see Castiel above the swarm of daemons though he barely has time to look for the Angel either way. He swings, stabs and hacks through daemons, slowly making his way to the Gates, hoping Castiel's doing the same.

On his end, Castiel is destroying daemons left and right. He hasn't used any of his mojo since his initial decent into Hell and has a lot to spare. Though he should be making his way towards the Gates, he prefers searching for Dean through the chaos surrounding them. He doesn't want him to be overwhelmed by enemies and ultimately defeated what with his important role to play in the apocalypse. Alastair, however, notices how easily Castiel is battling daemons away and decides to intervene. The rest of the daemons who had set their eyes on Castiel turn away and head for Dean. The Angel wants nothing more than to rush to his side at this very moment but he can't.

"You know," Alastair starts slowly as he whips his chain around, "You've been a real thorn in my side." He swings his chain at Castiel but he manages to dodge in the nick of time, "And that's surprising," Alastair continues as he begins a flurry of rapid attacks, all of which Castiel barely manages to avoid, "Seeing as you're so young, weak and inexperienced. You're tougher than I thought, I'll give you credit for that—"

Castiel suddenly surprises Alastair by catching the chain and tugging the daemon to him, intending on stabbing him in the center of his chest. Alastair, however, releases the chain and pivots out of the way just in time to avoid the lethal blow. He then takes a step back and grins with great amusement.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

Dean doesn't know how but he made it through the swarm of daemons. He's just meters away from the Gates of Hell and not that many daemon remains. A few of them have fled whereas the only ones staying behind are specifically there because they fear Alastair more than annihilation. Dean makes fairly quick work of half of them which eventually push the rest to just leave. Finally free and inches away from stepping out of Hell, Dean turns towards the Gates and starts walking.

He can see the silhouette of Angels again and their voices and much clearer now. They sound more relaxed than they had before and Dean is just about to cross when he remembers that he's forgetting Castiel. He turns back, expecting the Angel to be right there but he actually finds him at the other end of the crater. Castiel's fighting against Alastair and though he managed to disarm him, he's still getting savagely beaten.

" _Cas_!" Dean yells and he soon realizes that doing so had been a bad idea.

Castiel glances in his direction, momentarily distracted, which is enough for Alastair who knocks him square off his feet and sends him hurling into the jagged rocks at top speed. The force of the impact causes Castiel to release his one weapon. The Angel blade rolls just out of his reach and when he makes a move to grab it, Alastair grabs him first and throws him again.

Dean is running towards him in seconds, calling his name desperately but Alastair stops him. He seemingly appears out of thin air, inches from him and nails a solid blow to his gut. Dean gasps and clutches at his stomach and bends forward. Alastair doesn't waste a second to hit his exposed head and crush Dean beneath his foot once he's flat on the ground. The daemons doesn't have time to continue beating Dean into submission when Castiel is upon him once more. Alastair, however, deals with him quickly and brushes him off as though he weren't the powerful entity he knew him to be.

Castiel is thrown against the crater's wall again and struggles to stand. On Dean's side, he's only managed to get onto his hands and knees when Alastair turns his attention back to him. He kicks him in the stomach twice before Dean topples over and collapses on his back. Alastair takes a step forward, pressing his foot on his chest and slowly adds weight to it.

"I'm going to tear you to shreds…" Alastair says with a cruel smile, "I'm going to rip, slash and cut you until there's nothing left, just like old times. And then, when there's really nothing left for me to destroy, I'll put you back together and do it all over for the rest of eternity."

Alastair suddenly adds much more pressure and Dean screams as the familiar pain of breaking bones explodes in his chest. He's now at Alastair's mercy and he's terrified. Castiel wasn't a match for Alastair the first time they fought and surely nothing had changed during the time they'd spent hiding and waiting for him to heal. If anything, the Angel was weaker than the first time seeing as he hadn't completely healed from the damage Alastair had done.

"Let him go—" Dean tries but is interrupted by his blood curling cries as Alastair slams the heel of his foot right into Dean's broken chest again.

"Are you going to try to accept my deal _now_ , Dean?" Alastair mocks with a soft laugh, "It's too late. You've had you' chance and I'm done showing you kindness only to have it thrown back in my face. You're ungrateful—"

Alastair stomps down onto Dean's chest again, earning another terrible shout of pain.

"You're rebellious—"

He stomps again.

"You're troublesome—"

He stomps again.

"And you had _such_ potential!"

Alastair kicks Dean onto his back swiftly before reaching down and grabbing him by his hair and pulling him up. "You're disappointing, Dean Winchester." He says, his breath tickling against the skin of his neck. Dean screws his eyes shut and shudders upon remembering what normally lead after Alastair invaded his personal space.

Suddenly, a heavy mass propels itself into Alastair. The daemon releases Dean and is thrown to the opposite end of the crater. Dean knows it's Castiel and he doesn't even have time to think of thanking him before he's lifted into his arms and propelled towards the Gates again. This time Dean knows they're going to make it. Alastair doesn't have anything to grab them with and won't be able to react fast enough to stop them. They're free—

But they don't pass through the Gates.

It's as though they hit a wall and bounce back a couple of inches, each confused by it. Alastair roars in laughter behind them. Castiel's the first one up and makes his way to the opening to see what's stopping them. He stretches his hand forward and when he's met with nothing he calls Dean to him. Dean runs to him and goes to cross when he's met with resistance. He's confused and terrified at what this could mean but is more frustrated by the fact that he doesn't understand _why_ he's unable to cross.

"What the hell!?" Dean snaps and hits the force field keeping him from freedom. "What's happening, Cas!? Why can't I cross!?"

"I do not understand—" Castiel says agitatedly and looks around in desperation for an answer. "Maybe Michael knows—"

"No he doesn't, you bird brain imbecile." Alastair says and takes a step closer. Dean notices that some of the daemons that had fled now return to the crater. "Dean Winchester hasn't passed the path's test. He can't leave."

"Test!? What test!?" Dean snaps, darting his gaze at Castiel who seems as confused as he is, "Did you know about this!?"

"No—"

"Of course he doesn't." Alastair chuckles, "No one except daemons know about it because this is _our_ realm."

"What the hell's the test then!?" Dean growls.

"Seeing as you're not getting out of here _now_ , I don't see the harm in telling you." Alastair chuckles and stops a few feet away, "When a soul tries to take the path out of Hell, they're faced with trials. The soul has to fight his or her daemons in order to successfully pass through the Gates. If Angel-boy over here had succeeded in flying you out the first time before he broke his wing, you wouldn't have to have passed or even taken the test to leave."

"So that means that…Bela, you and everything…" Dean mumbles as he remembers the trials he had to face. His mind rests on the forbidden tree.

"Bingo." Alastair grins.

_We'll never be happy if you don't…_

"But, like I said, you're too late." Alastair says and rests his hands on his hips.

_Why won't you admit it to yourself!? Why can't you be honest!?_

"Now then," Alastair continues, "We'll let your boyfriend Angel go because this is already sweet enough without his death."

_We're scared!_

"Come along Dean, Eternity is waiting."

_We're weak!_

"Dean?" Castiel asks worriedly.

_We need help!_

Dean looks at the Angel with a dazed expression.

_We can't do this alone!_

He wants to tell Castiel to leave him behind and go.

_We aren't the man dad wanted us to be!_

But he doesn't.

_We don't—_

Dean suddenly grabs Castiel's chest and pulls him closer, "Cas—" he starts a bit clumsily, "I'm not going to say I love you 'cause that's too soon but I sure as hell _really_ care about you!" Dean shuts his eyes close and kisses Castiel. He's not sure if it'll be for the last time or not as he pushes them towards the opening and they fall over. When they hit the ground, Dean hesitates to open his eyes but, when he does, he's surrounded by white and purity. He's bewildered, overwhelmed and he's not quite sure he can believe he actually made it until he looks behind and sees the black Gates shut and daemons reaching through the bars to grab him.

Alastair is standing at the very front with a furious look on his face, "This isn't over, Dean." He threatens and then disappears.

Dean would have been worried by that but he's too happy and relieved to be free. He turns to Castiel and kisses him again and he responds enthusiastically until a realization hits him and the Angel breaks the kiss. Castiel looks fairly terrified and Dean doesn't understand why. However, he knows that he's feeling hurt.

"Cas—"

" _Dean Winchester._ " A voice echoes in his head, promptly interrupting him. " _It is I, the one whom you call Michael._ "

Dean looks around and tries to guess among the silhouettes which one is Michael. He decides it's the abnormally huge one the stands out like a sore thumb out of the other Angels present. "Hey…?"

" _You have been saved._ " Michael says, " _Dean Winchester has been saved._ "

The Angels cry out in glee and, to Dean, it sounds a bit like they're singing.

"Yeah, thanks." He responds meekly.

" _You will be returned to your body now._ " Michael explains, " _Castiel will perform the Enochian spell and though you may forget everything, I want you to promise me that, when the time comes, you will say 'yes'._ "

"Yes to being your vessel?" Dean asks, just to be clear but Michael doesn't respond. "I'll take that as a yes…"

" _Castiel…_ " Michael says, Dean turns his gaze to Castiel who looks admittedly terrified, " _You have been shamed by a daemon._ "

"Yes…" Castiel responds quietly and looks back at his blackened wings.

" _I am sorry for that, brother._ " Michael says and he genuinely sounds regretful, " _However, we will still need to discuss your highly inappropriate behaviour and settle on a suitable punishment._ "

"U-understood." Castiel says and Dean finally understands why the Angel had acted the way he did during their final moments in Hell.

"Hey!" Dean snaps, and he's not sure what madness pushed him to yell at an Archangel out of everything. "Why don't you lay off! He just pulled my ass out of Hell in case you forgot! He also got his ass handed to him! I mean just look at—" but when Dean looks at Castiel, he's perfectly fine and he remembers that Castiel can now heal instantly, "W-well he's fine now but he wasn't before!"

" _This is none of your concern, mortal_." Michael says and he sounds dangerously angry.

"If you're going to ride me around during the apocalypse," Dean says and he briefly questions his phrasing, "Then, yeah, it is my concern!"

"Dean—" Castiel tries.

"No, Cas!" Dean says as he continues, "This isn't fair! What the hell's so wrong about loving!?"

" _Watch your tone._ " Michael growls.

Dean shrinks back a little. "You owe Cas a huge deal for getting you something to wear to the apocalypse!" Dean states, "And seeing as there's nothing wrong with loving, you should really give him a break. He deserves it."

" _You cannot understand. You are too primitive_." Michael says and the bitterness in his tone is all too evident. Dean doesn't have time to say anything when he adds: " _Castiel, do as you are told and return to me._ "

The next thing Dean knows, they're back on Earth. They seem to be in the middle of a forest. The sky is blue and he's surrounded by pine trees in a very small clearing at the center of which is a petty cross. There's no name written on it but Dean knows it's where his body is buried.

"Are we really back?" Dean asks and looks behind him to find Castiel standing a few paces away.

"Yes." Castiel answers with a small smile.

Dean takes in a deep breath, though he can't smell the fresh air, the feeling of being home is satisfaction enough. Hell is starting to feel like just a terrible nightmare already. He looks down at the petty cross and a weird feeling of nostalgic washes over Dean.

"I don't understand…" Dean mumbles and kneels to touch the cross, "We normally burn the bodies…"

"Your brother wanted to bring you back." Castiel explains quietly, "He worked tirelessly for four months but nothing worked. He only gave up recently."

"Sam…" Dean whispers. He stares at the cross a moment longer before standing and looking at Castiel. "Hey Cas?"

"Yes?" Castiel asks.

"Your brother, Michael, he's kind of a douche." Dean says bluntly.

"Dean!" Castiel says, "He's watching us!"

"I'm just saying." Dean says with a small laugh.

His laughter dies down fairly quickly and the two stare at each other for a moment without saying a word. The silence is sad and regretful and Dean knows what Castiel's going to say when he opens his mouth before he actually does.

"This is goodbye, Dean." Castiel says.

"No." Dean says almost immediately, "I don't want it to be."

"I'm afraid it's beyond our control." Castiel says regretfully.

"It doesn't have to be!" Dean states.

"There's nowhere we can go that he won't find us, Dean." Castiel says with a sad smile, "And the world will need you more than ever in the upcoming months. I love humanity too much to rob them of their salvation."

Dean frowns at that and drops his gaze to the ground. He's not angry or irritated with Castiel. He understands. What he wants is too exaggerated in the first place.

"Dean?" Castiel asks. "Can I ask how you managed to pass the Gates?"

"Wha—oh." Dean says. "The trials…"

"Yes," Castiel confirms, "Alastair said there was at least one you hadn't yet accomplished."

"The tree." Dean says, "I overcame Bela and Alastair but not the tree."

"How come?" Castiel asks.

"Because as corny as it is to say," Dean answers, "My worst enemy really is me."

Castiel decides to leave it at that. Human thought patterns and emotions were still a foreign concept to him but he understood that Dean didn't enjoy talking about himself nor his problems.

"Hey Cas?" Dean says.

"Y—"

The distance between them is closed in an instant with a kiss. This one is long and passionate and filled with unspoken love. They melt into it and only pull away reluctantly.

"I'll remember you, I swear." Dean promises.

And then Castiel does the Enochian spell.


	13. Epilogue

It's dark.

Very dark.

Dean's in a confined space and he has no idea how he got there. He thinks it might have something to do with the daemons that were pissed about Alastair letting him leave the torture tables. He doesn't understand why they would seemingly put him underground however. Dean's primal fear is that of flight and, sure, being buried alive isn't far behind but if the daemons really wanted to scare him, they should have chosen something else.

Dean's first reflex is to call out. He opens his mouth to speak but finds that barely a sound can leave his throat. His mouth's completely dry and the strain he has to put on his vocal cords to emit even the feeblest of sounds is too much and so he stops. He's never encountered this problem in Hell before. Alastair had told him that daemons love hearing the pained screams of tortured souls and so one thing they would never suffer from was a dry or hurt throat. Nevertheless, Alastair also mentioned that Hell played by its own random set of rules which were hard to follow, even for him.

Dean takes in a deep breath and feels around. He seems to be in a very petty casket. The spaces between the boards are so large that his fingers can brush the soil in which he's buried and Dean's surprised to feel something strangely similar to grass. His next reflex is to push on the top to see if he can escape from his small prison but he only manages to shift the top lightly. He earns a handful of dirt in his face for his attempt at escaping.

The dirt strangely tastes like dirt. Dean doesn't understand. The ground in Hell was typically black ashes or red stone, nothing else. Either the daemons have found a new way to torture him or something has changed. Dean dares to think for a second that he might have been pulled out of Hell but pushes the thought away. From what he understands, the daemons were fairly adamant in keeping him in Hell no matter the price Sam or anyone else offered to pay. And so a question remains: what the hell is going on?

Dean fiddles around his body, hands searching his chest and pants for anything that could be of use. He finds a litter in his left pocket and pulls it out for a better look around him. He almost doesn't believe the colours he's seeing. Brown dirt, green strands of grass and greying planks barely standing the weight placed upon them. What's more is Dean's wearing clothes he had never worn back in Hell. The ones he has aren't stained with blood or covered in sweat. It's part of his typical wardrobe but it seems a bit cleaner than usual.

His heart begins to beat heavily in his chest as Dean seriously begins to consider he might have gotten out of Hell. He pushes at the top of the casket with a renewed force and manages to dislodge it but a ton of dirt falls upon him. For an instant, he's unable to breathe and he has to blindly claw his way out of what could be a very unpleasant death. It feels like an eternity before he feels his hand pierce through the ground and feels a soft breeze brush against his skin. In the next few seconds, everything below Dean's waistline is still covered in dirt and he's finally taking his first breath.

The sky is a beautiful shade of blue and no clouds are in sight. The sun's shining brightly and he basks in its warmth for an instant. He's home. He's finally out of Hell. He doesn't have to suffer anymore and nothing will ever make him sell his soul to a daemon again. An eternity of torture was simply too much for him.

When Dean tears his gaze away from the sky, he finally takes a look around. He's shocked and alerted to see that the pine trees surrounding him have been flattened to the ground by an inexplicable force. He fears that whatever did this might still be around and so braces himself but, after a brief moment of pure silence, he realizes that perhaps it has gone. Nonetheless, Dean is still very perplexed. He has no idea what could have had the force to do such a thing and can only assume whatever dragged him out of Hell was a daemon – but a kind he's never encountered before.

And he doesn't plan on remedying that now.

He pulls himself from the ground and shakily gets up to his feet. His legs give in almost instantly and it takes Dean a couple more tries before he's able to walk around mildly normally. He doesn't know how much time has passed since his death but the weakened condition of his body suggest more than two weeks. Dean looks around pointlessly again, wondering which direction he should use to try to find civilization before noticing a small dirt path buried beneath the fallen pine trees. He follows it unbeknownst to him that a certain Angel in a trench coat is watching him leave with a look of utter sadness plastered on his face.

* * *

Castiel.

The daemon that pulled him out is Castiel.

Sam doesn't want him to go after him and confront him but Dean doesn't want to wait. Sam's keeping secrets from him either way so he doesn't see why he can't make things equal between them. He gets Bobby and they leave for a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. So far Castiel has tried to make contact with him twice and both times he nearly killed him. Now they're going to bring him forth and they're going to be ready.

They paint every single sigil known to keep powerful evil entities at bay over every single surface of the warehouse before setting up the alter for the summoning spell. They make sure to double check everything before Bobby goes ahead and performs the incantation. They wait for an instant, expecting Castiel to make his grand appearance at any given moment but end up waiting hours on end.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asks in annoyance after a long while of silence. Bobby gives him a warning glare, silently ordering him to mind his tone. "Sorry…touchy, touchy hun?"

Bobby rolls his eyes and Dean continues to fiddle with Ruby's knife. Suddenly, the wind picks up and begins to shake the building in which they sit. The two jump to their feet and ready themselves in seconds. Bobby's cocking the safety off his gun whereas Dean's fishing his out of his pocket as he looks around wearily.

"Wishful thinking but maybe it's just the wind…" Dean eventually says before his gaze rests on the doors at the other end of the large space.

He soon averts his eyes, however, when the lights overhead explode and sparks rain down upon them. The doors barred with a large wooden plank then begin to open, snapping the tough piece of wood as though it were nothing more than a twig. Dean manages to glance up regardless of the rain of sparks to see the daemon Castiel take his first step in the sigil infested room. He can only see his feet as he slowly walks forward and Dean's hurt begins to thump heavily against his chest. What he initially considers fear is actually excitement which Dean doesn't understand. And as his gaze slowly pans up to rest on Castiel's face, Dean feels weak in the knees and clutches his weapon tightly. He doesn't know why, but he wants to run to Castiel and k—

Bobby shoots first and Dean's surprised by the anger and dread he feels. He wants to push Bobby and make him stop but then he remembers that Castiel is a daemon and has tried to kill him twice. And so he aims his gun at him but he still hesitates to pull the trigger. When he does, regret takes over him and he has to fight through the feeling of wrongness that gradually overwhelms him every time he pulls the trigger.

Castiel, however, continues to walk without so much as batting an eye to the bullets piercing his body. Finally, Bobby runs out of bullets and Dean is not far behind. Castiel stops walking only a meter or so away from them and he looks at Dean with fondness and even love. Dean's heart flutters and he wants to run to Castiel but he keeps himself in check. He figures his weird emotions are due to his mojo a creature as powerful possesses.

"Who are you?" Dean asks and grabs Ruby's knife.

Castiel briefly glances at it but his gaze ultimately rests on Dean. He remains quiet for a fraction of a second but to Dean it feels like far longer. And before Castiel even opens his mouth, Dean knows what he's going to say. Dean's body already knows the entity standing in front of him but he simply can't quite remember how and why.

"I am Castiel. I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Who knows why I decided to add this now?**
> 
> **Anywhore, this chapter, like all the other chapters, follow Dean's perspective which is why mentionning things like what happened to Castiel when he went back to Michael couldn't be explained. It didn't make sense to me so I figured I'd write it here and be done with it lol**
> 
> **Basically, Castiel goes back to Michael where he gets bitched at about marking Dean (when they did the dance with no pants) and his punishment is thus to rejoin his squad of Angels in patrolling the Earth to kill rogue daemons and stop them from breaking the seals (something *headcannon alert* Castiel doesn't like doing because he prefers watching humans - what a lazy bum). Before being sent away, however, Castiel informs Michael that Dean doesn't remember anything from how he was pulled out of Hell and Michael thus instructs Castiel to keep his mouth shut. He makes him swear that he won't say a word about their journey out of Hell and the relationship that developed between them during the course of that time. Castiel agrees and thus that explains why he never mentions it or even hints to it (save for the profound bond thing) but always invades Dean's personal space.**
> 
> **Now that that's out of the way, i can concentrate on thinking of a different story to tell XP**


End file.
